


Slingshot 2

by DannyCreasy



Category: Carol (2015), The Price of Salt - Patricia Highsmith
Genre: Alternate Universe - Carol (2015) Fusion, F/F, Lesbian Sex, Military Science Fiction, Post-Apocalypse, War, patriciahighsmith
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:06:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 26
Words: 44,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23700526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DannyCreasy/pseuds/DannyCreasy
Summary: Major Carol Aird needs a new first sergeant for her elite tactical team, Slingshot 2. She pulls strings to nab a top from another team.First Sergeant Therese Belivet always follows orders, yet she is not happy about leaving her beloved Slingshot 5 commander and subordinates.Carol and Therese have only met cursorily to date, but the times demand they work together; in just two days, Lauderdale's mechanized "Slingshot" tactical teams will spearhead and recon an invasion of their hated enemy.Seven decades earlier, biowar gone wrong reduced the world's population to the few thousand inhabitants of what they call the “Spared Territory;” they built walls to keep the terminally infected out and worked together to retain some semblance of society as we know it. But old habits die hard, and these survivors have divided into two feuding principalities: the Lauderdales and the Colberts. Separated by a mighty river, they war over festering hatreds and scarce resources.
Relationships: Carol Aird & Abby Gerhard, Carol Aird & Therese Belivet, Carol Aird/Abby Gerhard, Carol Aird/Therese Belivet, Therese Belivet & Dannie McElroy, Therese Belivet/Dannie McElroy
Comments: 222
Kudos: 67





	1. No Time for Whining

**Author's Note:**

> [](https://imgur.com/C3enXZp)   
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [](https://imgur.com/pjeeReP)

“Wake up, Therese!”

“What the fuck, I just fell asleep!”

“No, that was four hours ago.”

“You gotta be shittin’ me, Dannie.”

“I wish I were, sweetie, but a runner just brought this message, and it states, “First Sergeant Therese Belivet is to report to Lieutenant Colonel Hargess Aird at zero nine hundred.”

“Well, Corporal McElroy, go tell Light Colonel Asshole to fuck himself.”

“Yeah, right.”

“What do you think this is all about, Dannie?”

“My best guess?”

“Yes, Corporal.”

“Well, you know Slingshot 2 lost their top to a broken leg in that Humvee accident yesterday?”

“Oh, shit.”

“Yeah, ‘Oh, shit.’”

“And our own Slingshot 5 just happens to have two seasoned, senior NCOs all packaged and ready.”

“That’s right, Therese, and with this pending invasion—”

“Yep, and those two sergeants are your brother, Phil, and—”

“You, honey!”

Therese dropped an eyebrow as she scowled at Dannie.

“And the last time I checked, Phil ain’t no Daughter of Sappho.”

“Did I say fuck?”

“Several times, darlin’, and it suits you so well.”

Therese moaned as she pressed her face into her palms.

Dannie teased, “But just think of all that pussy over there.”

Therese couldn’t help but laugh. “Fuck you, Dannie.”

Dannie tried his best to dance around in a circle like a girl. The morning sun gave their tent an exotic glow, thus making his cavorting all the more surreal.

Therese snatched up her boot and flung it at her best friend; it ricocheted off his left butt cheek.

Still acting prissy, he turned, with hands-on-hips, and protested, “You kicked my ass!”

With that, Therese started laughing and collapsed back on her cot with her head face down in the pillow.

A moment later, she sleepily asked, “Who the hell’s idea was it to allow the formation of a tactical team made up entirely of gay females?”

Dannie looked at her sympathetically following her rhetorical question.

They both knew how their overall Slingshot commander, Colonel Phil Goins, doted over his only child. What made it more frustrating was the fierce, undisputed competence of that personage; Major Carol Aird was an alpha class military officer, a soldier’s soldier, and one respected by all.

Therese chimed, “Whatever baby wants!”

Dannie snickered, then plopped down on Therese’s cot and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Didn’t you get an invite from her when she was forming her team?”

“Yes, I did. Correction, it came through channels. Captain Smith called me in and ran it by me.”

“What? Two years ago?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Why did you turn it down?”

After thinking a few seconds, Therese answered, “I don’t know. I guess I just liked the Five. Clara Smith is a great commander, and I love you two.”

Dannie smiled. Then sarcastically stated, “Me, I understand, but Phil, really?”

Therese bumped him with her knee then asked, “What time is it? I don’t have my watch on.”

“Girl, you got 45 minutes to be standing at attention, all shiny and new, in front of The Sphincter.”

Therese shoved Dannie off the cot and threw her feet to the ground. As she stood and stretched, she wondered, “You know I’ve never met Carol Aird, but I’ve heard plenty. She can be a bitch, but she is a classy bitch. You know, Dannie, her subordinates love her. What did she ever see in ‘Harge?’ I mean, I can see her coming out later in life and realizing who she was comfortable fucking, but really, why was she with him in the first place.”

“Don’t sell him totally down the road, Therese. He coached Phil and my ball team when we were little; he had his good moments. And Goddamn! You know his record in the Three Day War! Old 1911 said he lost count of how many Colberts the guy took out at the bridge. I just think Colonel Aird is bitter over Major Aird leaving him and going over to the other side, so to speak. That’s when he became a grump. Ya know?”

“Thanks, Dannie. Of course, I can sure see her side; hell, I went through all that shit with Richard a couple of years ago. That said, I need to calm down, suck it up, and look at it a little more from the Colonel’s POV.”

Dannie retrieved the weaponized boot from the corner and tossed it by her cot. He chuckled, “That’s good, Sergeant, but don’t forget, he is an asshole. And another thing, Top, they both always have been and always will be Florence/Lauderdale aristocracy... and we ain't.”

Therese stripped off and grabbed her olive drab towel. She wrapped it around her lean, muscular figure, smiled at Dannie, and then darted out of their tent headed for the field showers.

Dannie sighed and hoped she hadn’t noticed his semi. He busied himself, making her bed. They were such a pair; she would have unhesitatingly made his bed, all tucked and tight, if their situations were reversed. He hated to think about how much he would miss her.


	2. Fucked Over and Fucked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [](https://imgur.com/wGABg8q)  
> The bar at "Miss Nell's Place"

“Sir, First Sergeant Therese Belivet reports as ordered.”

The seated Colonel Aird returned Therese’s salute and said, “At ease, Sergeant.”

He dropped his pen on his paperwork and took in the attractive green-eyed brunette. “Ah, now I can put a face with a name. Yeah, I’ve observed you on field exercises. You’re good, Belivet. Real good!

Therese was embarrassed by the praise but replied pleasantly, “Thank you, Sir.”

“Here, pull up a chair, Sergeant, let’s talk.”

Therese sidestepped to retrieve a folding chair from the wall. She eased down slowly into the wood and canvas contrivance. Even at her petite 110 pounds, she was always wary of such gear.

Straight backed, she nervously eyed the man across from her.

“Y’all ready over at the Five, Top?”

“Squared away, Sir, and ready to roll.”

“Do you know why I’ve summoned you?”

“I can only guess, Colonel?”

“And what would that guess be?”

“You would like for me to take over for the injured Beatrice Bolt at Team Two.”

“Outstanding, Sergeant.” He paused, then added, “You don’t seem very enthusiastic about that.”

“Well, we’re going to war the day after tomorrow, Sir. I’d rather be with the team I’ve trained.”

“Symbiotic, huh, Sergeant?"

"Something like that, Sir."

"Then, what will Major Aird do, Sergeant?”

“I know some of her NCOs, Sir. She’s got talent. I would think it best for her to promote from within.” Therese did not break eye contact.

“Do you now, Sergeant?”

“Yes. Yes, I do, Sir.”

“You know, I agree with you, Belivet.” He stood and strolled to his tent’s entrance. Without turning to face her, he continued, “The thing is, my ex-wife’s daddy was over at her area last night. He brought our daughter over to see her mother for a little while. The three of them had dinner. You know who my former father-in-law is, don’t you, Belivet?”

“Colonel Goins, Sir.”

He stepped back to her side and loomed over Therese. “That’s right, Therese … oh, may I call you Therese?”

“If you’d like, Sir.”

“Good. Well, Therese, Major Aird asked her daddy specifically to see if he could get you reassigned to Team 2.”

“I see, Sir.”

“Yes, well, I hope you do, Therese, because Colonel Goins made it a point to leave there and go straight to your camp. He visited with heir apparent Harry Smith’s cousin. You know, Therese, your team commander, Clara Smith?

“Yes, Sir.”

“Yep, it seems he got her on board with all this, then before leaving there, he gave me a call and told me to make it all happen.”

Harge circled back to his chair and sat down.

“What do you think about it now, Therese?”

She swallowed hard, but she knew her pale cheeks were flushing. Finally, she uttered, “I think it would be an honor to serve on such a fine team, Sir, and I will do my utmost to make Major Aird, Colonel Goins, and you proud.”

“There ya go, Sergeant. Report to Major Aird this afternoon.”

“This aft—”

“Yes, Therese?”

“Nothing, Sir.”

“Very well. Your dismissed, Sergeant.”

Therese stood and snapped to attention saluting “her superior.”

Harge returned it then shifted his gaze to the documents on his desk.

Therese performed a flawless about-face and stepped away from his desk.

Before she reached the exit, Harge caused her to pause, “Oh Therese, cheer up, you’ll be in a target-rich environment over there.”

She glanced back over her shoulder, seething with hidden anger.

Harge caught her color and raised his hands helplessly. “Oh, I mean after y’all reach Colbert, of course. You know, you oughtta kill a shit load of Knights.”

Therese bit her tongue and accelerated her pace away from the Colonel’s tent.

The cold November air stung her hot cheeks, but it felt good. Yes, the cold air felt perfect, but the temperature and the cloudy sky triggered a memory. The whole thing reminded her of adolescence and the day her mother badgered her beloved father into sending her away to the Smith Academy. Usually, the Academy only took orphans or abandoned children, but even at that low point in his life, Thomas Belivet still had a few connections. That was the last time she saw her daddy; he died a month later. Her mother seldom visited her. The Academy became her home, and the classmates and instructors were her family.

She shook off the dark memories and thought, _Therese, you got this, girl. It’ll all be fine._

She passed by the infamous Miss Nell’s Place just before ten. A combination inn, restaurant, and brothel, she knew the joint never closed. She hesitated a moment, then turned onto its brick walk, up the stairs, and through the heavy oak doors. Therese paused to let her eyes adjust to the dim light of the bar.

A voice from the bar chimed, “What’ll it be, honey?”

Therese strode to the bar and perched on one of the tall stools. Now she could see the woman behind the bar more clearly; it was Nell Quickly herself. Therese imagined a _Kinda early in the day, ain’t it, sweetie?_

Nell stepped up close to Therese and smiled pleasantly. “You need a shot, don’t ya, Sergeant?”

“Uh, yes, ma’am. That would be nice.”

The shapely madam, well in her fifties, already had a bottle in her hand and was tilting it to the glass in front of Therese. The golden liquor danced in the glass.

“What is this?”

“Do you really care, honey? Let me just say it’s new, and it’s excellent.”

“No, no, I don’t care” Therese lifted the weighty little glass and kicked back the contents. It burned. She smiled.

“There ya go, soldier girl. Another?”

“Sure.”

Therese nursed the second one and thought, _Shit, Therese, you never drink on duty. What the fuck?_

Therese took in the establishment. A big grandfather clock ticked away near the door, and as she scanned the restaurant and card room, she saw a bustle of activity. Everybody from the bouncers to the whores were dusting, cleaning, or sweeping.

Before she caught herself, she asked, “Is it like this every morning?”

“Pretty much.”

Therese realized the voice wasn’t Nell’s. Startled, she glanced behind the bar to find a wiry yet gorgeous raven-haired woman standing where Nell had been. Not yet “dressed for work,” the little sex worker wore a simple cotton dress with her long hair pulled up on top with a scarf.

Feeling cocky and imbued with drink, Therese asked, “Who are you?”

With eyes that pierced to Therese’s soul, the girl answered in a soft tone, “I’m whoever you want me to be, darlin’.”

Therese chuckled, “No, really, what’s your name?”

“Cold Zee.”

“No shit, ‘Cold Zee,’ huh? I’ve heard the boys talk about you.”

“A little embarrassed, Zee coyly asked, “Have you now. What did they say?”

In a thoughtful moment, Therese answered, “Actually, they talk as if they are all in love with you.”

Expecting something hateful from the troubled lady soldier, Zee was taken off guard by this dreamy remark. She searched for a comeback.

A warm arm tenderly wrapped across Therese’s back, and its hand squeezed her upper arm. It was Nell; she had slipped up next to her. Nell whispered, “Why don’t you let Zee take you upstairs and make all your troubles go away.”

The first drink was already numbing Therese’s nose. She glanced away from Nell’s sweet leathery face and ice-blue eyes to take in Cold Zee’s contrasting visage.

Zee was leaning on the bar. Her face was now just a foot away from Therese’s.

Therese had never paid for sex, so she asked, “What’ll it cost me?”

Nell cooed, “Not a damn thing, honey. Ben Smith told us to run him a tab for any Slingshot personnel that comes in today or tonight. He’s gonna catch it later.”

Therese smirked and grumbled, “Another fucking Smith. Geez, I can’t get away from them… womb to tomb.” _Tomb!_ Therese imagined the vicious close-quarter battle she was destined for. She blinked away the violent images and concentrated on Cold Zee. Zee was leaning over even more, and Therese could now see down the front of her dress. Therese ached between her legs as she asked, “Where’d you get that tan this time of year, girl?”

“Miss Nell has the only working tanning bed in the Spared Territory.”

“Really? Well, it’s definitely ‘working’ on me.”

Zee placed her hand on top of Therese’s and asked, “You ready to go, Therese Belivet?”

Shocked, Therese asked, “How did you—”

Nell finished her question, “—know who you are? We’ve heard Dannie and Phil talk about you. They worship you, Sergeant. I figured you’d come by one of these days, and here you are.”

Therese’s eyes teared as she thought about her men and how they would soon be torn from her.

Zee noticed the glistening eyes and comforted, “Aw, it’s okay, Therese. C’mon… let’s go make this mean old world disappear.”

Therese slipped back off the stool with Nell’s gentle encouragement as Zee rushed around the end of the bar to join them. Zee took Therese’s arm and escorted her upstairs while Nell returned to the bar.

Zee’s room was to the right and third on the left. It had a lovely view of the little lake that sat behind Nell’s buildings. Therese commented, “This is all so nice. It’s all so clean. You’re so pretty.”

Zee grinned and gave Therese a slow, delicious kiss.

Therese let Zee press her down onto the bed. The drink was just whiskey; it was not like she was inebriated. Therese just felt good and warm inside.

Zee pulled off Therese’s boots then helped her slip off her jacket, pistol belt, shirt, and pants. On fire now, Therese impatiently pulled off her panties and t-shirt and scooted her back up on Zee’s small mountain of bed pillows. Zee was standing to the side of the bed. Therese was close to the edge of the bed. She kissed Therese again while her right hand slipped between Therese’s thighs. Two fingers made Therese moan.

Zee observed, “Well, you’re all ready, ain’t ya, darlin’?”

Therese numbly nodded.

Zee stepped back and pulled the print dress off over her head. She had nothing else on. Zee had already kicked off her moccasins upon entering the room. Zee must have tanned in the raw as her glowing coverage was total. Therese almost came just looking at her. She tried to recall how long it had been. _Weeks, months… last summer?_

Zee crawled up on the bed and urged Therese to shift to the middle. Therese tried to reach out for her, but Zee pushed her back gently, commanding, “No, no. I’m driving, sweet baby, you just lay back and enjoy.”

Therese complied.

The two women contrasted, alabaster and bronze. Even a pro like Zee was moved. “You are gorgeous, Sergeant. I’m not sure who should be payin' who.” Zee nestled in between Therese’s legs and began to suck and munch on her clit. Therese moaned and jerked.

Zee stopped for a moment and looked up.

Therese almost gasped at the stoppage.

I just wanted to say, Therese, you can make all the noise you want to. Scream and holler away. Nobody can hear you, and even if they do, they won’t give a shit.” With that said, she dove back into Therese.

Therese did scream. She came hard, and she came a lot.

For the second time that day, Therese heard, “Wake up, Therese,” but this time, it was Cold Zee’s gentle voice. She was dressed and standing by the bed. “I done wore you out, girl, but I know you probably have important things to do back at your post.”

A bit startled, Therese eased to the side of the bed. She glanced at her watch and winced.

Zee pointed out the bathroom. There’s a little shower in there, Therese, with soaps and fresh towels.

Twenty-five minutes later, Therese was on the road again and heading for Slingshot 5. It was half-past noon, and she still had to walk back, then pack and report to Major Aird. Therese nervously glanced back at the brothel. She thought about the Old World books and articles she had read about STDs and the like. _Glad the death of the Old World took all that shit with it._ Recollections of the slamming orgasms Zee had delivered replaced the negative thoughts and brought a dreamy smile.

The unmistakable sound of a Humvee’s engine sounded behind her. Dannie and Phil McElroy pulled up, acting the fools; they ogled her and made lewd faces. Dannie asked, “Hey, lady, you wanna lift? We’re goin’ your way.”

She clambered in the back seat and couldn’t help but laugh at the goofy pair.

Phil smirked, “Dang, what’s that smell, Dannie?”

“I know, Bro, that smells so fine. All girlie girl! Omg, Phil, that’s our very own top sergeant that smells that good.”

“Nooo, it can’t be.”

Therese lifted her wrist and whiffed Zee's flowery soap; then, she reached up and simultaneously smacked both men’s heads. She knew they knew and really didn't care.

Therese shifted to NCO, “Where have y’all been?”

Phil answered, “Oh, we just figured you’d be walking back from SSHQ and might ease your trek. We ran it by Captain Smith, and she enthusiastically permitted us to take a Humvee.”

Therese said, “Well, thanks.”

The two wanted to confirm the rumors of her reassignment, but, almost telepathically, they knew it was best to leave their "Top" to her thoughts.


	3. Welcome Home, Therese

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [](https://imgur.com/2MjLYwe)  
> 

“Carol, Therese Belivet is here.”

Major Carol Aird chimed, “Awesome! Thanks, Abby, send her in.”

Corporal Abby Gerhard turned and waived Therese over. “You can go on in, Therese.”

Somewhat dismayed by the air of informality, Therese uttered, “Thanks, Abby .... uh, it was nice catching up with you."

“You too, Therese, and once again, I’m so glad you’re here.”

Therese stepped in the Slingshot 2 commander’s tent and began her reporting procedure.

Surprisingly, Carol had stood and stepped around her field desk to greet Therese. “Fuck that shit, Therese, give me a hug.”

Therese stiffly received and returned the hug.

Carol moved back slightly. She kept her left hand on Therese’s shoulder while grasping Therese’s right hand with her own. She gazed in Therese’s eyes. “Damn! I’m glad you’re here.”

“Well … it’s—”

“I know, shitty to be here,” and with that, she began to laugh. Abby, Carol’s driver and security aid, was still within earshot; she cackled as well. Carol laughingly yelled, “Abby, get the hell out of here.”

Stunned, Therese sheepishly smiled while thinking, _What planet have I landed on?_

As she stopped laughing, Carol lifted and planted a folding stool firmly down and motioned for Therese to sit. Carol simply leaned back, resting her lovely bottom on the front edge of the unusually sturdy little desk. Carol crossed her right calf over her left shin, making for an exceptionally feminine pose despite her custom cobbled combat boots. She stared down with piercing blue eyes riding over Old World actress cheekbones and a charmingly sincere smile. Carol’s blonde hair was pinned up in the back with errant tassels fighting for cute freedom in multiple directions. Therese had seen Carol many times, but other than a cursory salute or congratulatory handshake, she had never really interacted with the stunning officer.

Carol broke the silence. “Therese, Harge called me. There’s no telling what that ass has you thinking about all this. I wish I could have just had Abby drive me over then gathered around some ST Lagers with you and Clara. I wanted to explain our unique mission and the special need we have for a woman with your skillset… but you know this military masculine bullshit.”

Therese did not know what to say, but she must have been smiling because Carol suddenly grinned and exclaimed, “Well, look at that smile, and those dimples? Uhm, what a heartbreaker!” Then Carol’s demeanor shifted, and she reached behind her and grabbed what the NCO recognized as a personnel folder. “I’ve been reading your jacket, Therese. It’s impressive. Did your team really clear The Monster in 57 seconds with zero collateral damage?”

“Yes, Ma’am, but we were lucky, and everything just seemed to click.”

“Yeah, right, Sergeant. Well, I don’t put much store in luck, but I do in training, skill, and leadership.”

Therese looked to the side for a second.

Carol saw the self-doubt and confusion. “Look, Therese, I loved Bea, she was great, but… wait, let me see how to put this… you’re going to think it horrible of me to say so, but perhaps that broken leg is for the best. She was beginning to slip. Her parents both died miserably this year, one of cancer and the other’s heart failed. Bea was drinking heavily. I hate it, but it is what it is. Hell, that broken leg may have saved her life, darlin’.”

“I didn’t know all that.”

“Of course, you didn’t. These girls keep things tight here. What happens in the 2 stays in the 2.”

Therese nodded in understanding.

“Let me be candid, Therese. Harry Smith has this invasion planned right down to the last round of ammunition, and he has the 2 and the 5 on the sharp edge. Shit, probably at the tip of the spear at times. And you know what they say about battle plans.”

“Every plan is a good one — until the first shot is fired.”

“That’s right, Therese.” Carol had been somewhat hugging Therese’s file against her perfect bosom now she held it in one hand and patted it with the other, saying, “You’ve killed, Therese, you’re the real deal. Clara says, you can kill without remorse.”

Therese had not thought about those Colbert insertions in a while, which perfectly made Carol’s point. Therese stared at the back of the tent and distantly surmised, “It’s a dirty job, I do it, then it’s over.”

Carol, let it be for a moment. She walked around her desk and was about to sit when she spotted Abby coming. “What’s up, Abby?”

“A courier just brought this message for you. It’s from Harry.”

Amusingly, everyone in Lauderdale, from top to bottom, from ST00 to the present ST70, had always called the ruling Smiths by their personal names. Sometimes it was a nickname. It was common knowledge that the current Lauderdale president was on his deathbed. Henry Wade Smith IV is Wade to his people, and his son, Henry Wade Smith V, is affectionately called Harry.

Carol took the sealed envelope, slipped it open with a manicured nail, and silently read the message inside. She folded it carefully and placed it back in the envelope, then said to Abby, “No written response is required. Just tell the courier to report that Slingshot 2 received the message and will comply.”

“Yes, Ma’am!” Abby said and rushed back to the courier.

“Therese, I trust you, implicitly. Harry just tasked us to … let me saaay … solve a pre-invasion problem. It starts now.”

“Wet work?”

Carol nodded, then stated, “Therese, you’ve heard me out. This will be a tough job for you, given your lack of hands-on experience with my women. If you prefer, I’ll send you right back to the 5, no hard feelings; I’ll promote one of my LMTV squad leaders. I only want you here if you want to be here. That said, I have every confidence in your ability to do this job, and if you accept this challenge, I promise to always have your back.”

Therese thought quickly. Her decision was made for her by the fact that the single thing she wanted the most at this moment was to see the contents of that message. The message meant someone was trying to hurt her principality, and they must be stopped.

Carol had been patient, but she was just about to speak. Therese made her heart soar by speaking first.

Therese beamed, “Let’s go to work, Major.”

“Call me Carol.”

“Okay, I will … Carol.”

“Good girl! Go find Abby and get squared away, then report back here in twenty.”

Therese started to salute, but Carol had already turned away and raced over to a stack of maps. The new senior NCO of Slingshot 2 exited and heard Abby shouting in the distance. Therese vectored on the sound. As she reattached her M4, grabbed her gear, and walked into her new command, she realized that she was smiling once again. ' _Dimples!' Goddamn, she’s hot._


	4. Top-rese

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [](https://imgur.com/EV3lGD8)  
> 

Abby led Therese towards an old but structurally intact barn.

“A barn? Really, Abby?”

“Just wait.”

Apprehensively, Therese walked through the open “barn doors” then laughed upon viewing the inside.

A row of six cots each ran down either side of the echoing space. Any stalls or equipment were long gone. The ground was covered with several big tarps, clean and dry. Late afternoon sunlight entered through two high, gable windows, one facing east and the other west.

Abby proudly spread her arms with palms facing Therese, and then she did a slow spin nodding her head up and down with a proud grin. “Can we marshal, or what?”

“Sweet!”

“Hell, yeah, ‘sweet’! Oh, oh, oh!” With her arms still outstretched, Abby pointed a finger, respectively, at each row's bed nearest the doors. She informed, “Those two are Charlie, these two are Bravo—” then she half spun again and continued, “—those are Alpha, next are chow/supply, then communication, and way down at the end are you and me.”

“All the NCOs under one roof ... shit … I wish I had been here sooner.”

“Oh, I know, Therese, me too.”

Therese started walking towards the far end. “Which side is mine?”

“Are you kiddin’? The one with the curtains.”

In the dappled light, Therese had not noticed the pulled-back privacy curtains tied off at the ends of the bed. “Did Bea put those up?”

“No, being older, we kinda got on her nerves; She had her own tent up near Carol’s. We moved everything around in here to make room for you, and those two privates out there … the ones playing horseshoes … they rigged up these curtains.”

Therese was moved and choked back a tear. _And to think I considered going back._ To cover her emotion, she confirmed, “So, it’s sergeants on the right and corporals on the left?”

“You got it, Top.”

Therese placed her gear at the foot of the cot like the other girls had, then hesitated with her M4.

“Your weapon will be fine here, Therese. We have our sidearms, and there are 24/7 guards in camp and on the perimeter.”

Upon walking back out along the row of beds, Therese asked, “Where’s everybody at?”

“PT. Carol and I would have been on that, but she wanted us to be here for you.”

They exited, heading back to the TC's tent. Therese noticed the horseshoe players. She asked, “Why aren’t they at PT?”

Abby giggled, “Carol came by to see your setup, and she was impressed enough with the curtains to reward them by letting them skip PT.”

Therese nodded approvingly, then she recognized the pair, “Is that Deb Romine and Judy Kelley?”

“Yes, Sergeant.”

Therese called out, “Hey, did you two ever learn to shoot?”

The intense competitors glanced over and grinned. They dropped their horseshoes and ran towards Therese and Abby. They were amusingly alike with racy mohawks and stocky five foot two frames. Judy answered, “Hell, yeah, Top-rese! We’ll kick your ass at next year’s InterTeam Championship!”

“Yeah, well, fuck that Kelley, and what’s this Top-rese shit?”

The privates had stopped and now looked at each other sheepishly.

Abby poked Therese’s arm and teased, “Oh, hell yeah, Therese. They done tagged ya.”

Therese smirked, “Top-rese … I love it. Hell, I’ve been called worse.”

Relieved, the shooters bumped fists.

Therese reached out and shook their hands while inquiring of Deb, “Y’all in the same squad?”

“That’s affirmative, Top-rese, Alpha for life, by Gawd!”

“Who are your squad leaders?”

“Sergeant Schmitt and Corporal Blind … they're the best!”

“Eight shooters?”

“Yes, Sergeant, and we have a rockin’ LMTV with an M240 and a case of those brand new Lauderdale grenades.”

“Great, that’s good to hear. Well, we’ve got a date with the TC, so y’all behave and enjoy your toss. By the way, thank you for the curtains; they’re nice.”

Judy replied, “Our pleasure, Top-rese!”

Therese and Abby chuckled and shook their heads as they walked away from the spunky private soldiers.

As Deb and Judy returned to their pits, Judy checked to make sure the NCOs were out of earshot, then she remarked, “Fuck! I wish Top-rese would ‘toss’ me behind those curtains; she’s a cutie.”

“You got that right, Judy-bootie, but I’ve heard Corporal Abby is a voodoo vagina witch.”

“Me too, but I guess we’d have to confirm that with Major Hottie.”

“I’ll ask her.”

“Okay, and I’ll come to see ya at the field hospital.”

"More like bring flowers to my funeral."

"Fuck that; it's November."

"Hey, it's my toss, right?"

"It is, D-ro, fling away."


	5. Well Done

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [](https://imgur.com/otUKtQ4)   
> 

The sweaty NCOs of Slingshot 2 seemed to equidistance themselves from one another in the mess tent. They had dismissed their charges as they returned from PT, but a runner intercepted them and directed them to come straight to the mess and wait for the Major.

Bravo’s Corporal Rand exclaimed, “Dammit, I stink. Could we at least have gotten showers? We been waitin’ here,... what? 10 minutes? Fuck, I could be settin’ here smellin’ fresh as a virgin’s cooch in 10 minutes.”

After checking her watch and discovering it was 1600, Mess Sergeant Pham complained, “Really, and I coulda checked on dinner in that time.”

Alpha’s Sergeant Schmitt chuckled, “Okay, why don’t y’all run along, and we’ll tell Carol and the new Top that y’all had more pressing matters to attend to.”

Supply Corporal Cody asked, “She’s here?”

Alpha’s Corporal Blind nodded, “Oh, yeah, she’s here. Judy and Deb told me they chatted with her after she stowed her shit in the barn.”

Charlie’s Corporal Davis remarked, “Ooh, ‘chatted,’ how nice.”

Blind added, “They even tagged her.”

Radio Tech, Corporal Dollar, inquired, “No shit! What is it?”

Blind answered as everyone stared at her listening intently, “Top-rese.”

Bravo’s Sergeant Ringo asked, “Come again?”

Blind clarified, “Top-rese!”

Communication Sergeant Jobbs laughed, “Now just who the hell is this gal?”

Ringo growled, “Jobbs, you fuckin’ pogue. How are you even here without knowing who Therese Belivet is?”

Poor Jobbs shrugged and blushed, then crossed her arms defensively.

Dollar leaned over to Jobbs and whispered, “Sarge, she’s like this ice queen top from the 5. She looks like your wet dream prom date, but she has skills.”

Davis added, “Fuckin’ A she has skills. And kills. She is the real deal, bitches. A killa  
dilla!”

Ringo growled again with her tobacco voice, “Goddamn, what a bunch of fuckin’ goofballs!” She spun back in her chair in exasperation to catch Schmitt’s shit eatin’ grin. They both broke down laughing.

Charlie’s Sergeant Peek had shrewdly scooted her chair near the entrance. She barked, “Room, ten hut!”

Chairs scooted, and knees popped as Carol strode in and chimed, “At ease, ladies! Please sit back down.”

Several muffled chuckles could be heard as fannies pressed back down into their chairs.

As she made her way to the head table, Carol smiled at the redfaced Ringo and asked, “Having fun, Sergeant?”

“Uh, no, Ma’am.”

“Well, that’s okay because we are about to.”

Eyebrows tweaked.

Carol placed her papers down on the table and asked, “How was PT?”

The entire assemblage boomed, “Slingshot Two!”

“Excellent! Well, I hated to miss the workout, but Corporal Gerhard and I were welcoming our new first sergeant. Top, please join me.”

The NCOs had not noticed Abby and Therese slipping in the tent and quietly standing behind them. Heads turned to watch Therese smartly walk up the side and turn to stand by Carol.

Carol continued, “Many of you know her, if not in person, by reputation, but for those who don’t, let me introduce First Sergeant Therese Belivet.”

Therese assumed parade rest and scanned her command, trying to make solid eye contact with each one of them. The wisp of a soldier maintained the slightest smile throughout her 180 of the room.

Carol let the silence roll; she loved the tension. She continued, “Sergeant Belivet has eagerly accepted the considerable challenge I’ve put before her, and I expect nothing less than a full one hundred from every one of you in making this transition of leadership successful… successful for Slingshot 2, successful for all of our Slingshot brothers and sisters, successful for Lauderdale, and of special importance, yourself. Therese Belivet is a winner. You are winners. We… are winners. We will not quit. We will leave no Team 2 sister behind. We will crush our enemy.

“SLINGSHOT 2!”

Carol nodded approvingly while eyeing her command. She locked on Sergeant Pham and smiled, “What’s for dinner, Pham? It smells delicious.”

“Sausages and kraut with green beans on the side, and battle bread, Ma’am.”

“Excellent, Sergeant. I know you are all eager to get cleaned up and partake in that fine meal, but we have vital business to cover before we break.

“As if the upcoming Colbert Invasion is not enough, we must deal with a new threat. It will only be Team 2; this is our baby. From this point forward and until further notice, all Team 2 personnel are restricted to squad level interaction. Sergeant Belivet or I must approve any exceptions. Ladies, treason is afoot.

“I will be blunt. It seems three of Harry Smith’s cousins, with Colbert assistance, have planned a coup de’tat.”

Shocked, the seasoned warriors gasped, exclaimed, or fumed expletives.

Carol expected same and let the show of emotion play itself out, then she continued, “Through the resolution of this issue, Harry will check in with us via phone every hour to check on our progress. He will also relay any new intelligence gathered from his numerous sources. This mission will require considerable stealth and flexibility on our part. We will break shortly but will meet again at 19:00 for detailed planning. I know you need and desire at least a preliminary plan, and for that—” Carol turned and asked, “Top-rese?”

Several grinned or smirked, but Sergeant Ringo exclaimed, “Hell, yeah!”

Therese grinned at Ringo, gave her an appreciative nod, then began, “Thank you, Major. It is a joy to be here.”

Laughter ensued.

Therese let it fade. She had noticed several of her noncoms glancing back at Abby. She was perched on a stool by the entrance with her M4 in hand. “Sisters, I see the gunned up Abby has caught your attention. That’s right, people. Intelligence indicates that enemy saboteurs and assassins are afield. Take heed of this and emulate it in your assembly and sleeping areas.

“Our parties of interest are Curtis Campbell, Biscuit Gray, and Bill Snope, all three Smith family blood kin. Some of you may know them or even consider them friends. You need to let that go. They are traitors, and if circumstances don’t force us to kill them, they will be apprehended, tried, and hanged.

“The Major and I foresee only a single squad assigned to these men. Elements of said squad will be required to shadow the subjects, whether together or divided, with the balance of the respective squad brought in at the time of engagement.”

Therese glanced over to Jobbs and Dollar and said, “We might have our people spread all over the principality at some point, so top-notch communication is critical.”

“Understood, Top,” acknowledged Jobbs.

“That is about it for now. I can take a couple of questions, but unless they are vital, I would prefer you hold them for the detailed meeting at 19:00.”

She paused and scanned the room. “Anything? No? Good, but I encourage you to jot down any that may pop into your heads before we reassemble. Well, hit the showers, get pretty for supper, and enjoy your meal. Please pass this along to your drivers, shooters, techs, and medics. Let’s have them start gearing up, but take note that in all likelihood, we will be sleeping in camp tonight. I am honored to be your First Sergeant.” Therese stepped back and turned to Carol, “Major?”

“Nothing else, Top.”

Therese dug deep, “Room, ten hut!”

The room snapped to.

“Dismissed!”

The noncoms departed quickly. Abby eased up to join Carol and Therese.

Carol smiled, “Well done, Therese. Don’t ya think, Abby?”

Abby nodded, “Absolutely.”

Therese blushed a bit, “Thank you, Ma—, I mean Carol. Appreciate that, Abby.”

Carol urged, “Ladies, let's go wash up, then we’ll have a last drink in my tent before chow."

They all thought, _Last drink_.

As soon as they had exited, Pham’s people rolled in and started setting up for dinner.


	6. Loss and Discovery

Therese awoke to a firm but gentle touch on her shoulder. The “where am I” moment lasted about two seconds. She turned her head to find Carol leaning over her.

Carol’s face was exquisite, but her countenance was sad. “Therese, we got the call.”

Therese checked her watch then said, “Oh, Carol, it’s after midnight; you should have let us spell you.” She sat up on the edge of Carol’s cot. She reached over to squeeze Abby’s arm. Abby was zonked on Carol’s sleeping bag, running parallel with the cot. Abby’s eyes opened, and Therese said, “Hey, Abby, Carol let us sleep for over three hours … she got the call.”

After rousing Therese, Carol had stepped out to check on the sentries. Finding Deb and Judy fully awake and alert, she asked, “Girls, y’all doin’ okay?”

Judy answered, “Yes, Ma’am.”

Carol crossed her arms and gave a shiver, “Damn, it’s cold out here.”

Deb chattered, “Yes, Ma’am, it’s zero dark fuckin’ cold.”

Carol softly laughed, “When’s your relief?”

“At the hour, Major.”

“I just made a pot of coffee. May I bring you two a cup?”

Judy shook her head, “Awnaw, Major, we’re good.”

“No, I insist … cream, sugar?”

The two soldiers looked at each other, grinned, and then nodded.

Judy said, “Black.”

Carol glanced at Deb and asked, “D-ro?”

The shooter chuckled, “Tan and sweet, Ma’am.”

Carol stepped back inside her tent to find Therese and Abby filling two cups.

“We got ‘em, Carol,” said Abby.

Therese poured the cream and sugar in Deb’s and stirred it. She handed it to Abby, who already had the black coffee in hand, then Abby turned to deliver the steaming cups.

Carol lifted the pot and asked, “Therese?”

Therese eagerly splashed some cream in a cup and held it up to receive the black gold. Carol poured two black cups for her and Abby.

Therese lovingly took a sip and cooed, “Where did you get coffee?”

Abby returned and literally danced to retrieve her cup.

Carol asked Therese, “Were you privy to the prisoner exchange last month?”

“Captain Smith just mentioned it in a briefing.”

“Well, evidently, the Colberts wanted their folks a bit more than we wanted ours.”

“A bit more?”

“Perhaps a lot more.”

Abby and Therese laughed.

“Anyway, the Colberts threw in 100 pounds of coffee fresh from the Ragland Greenhouses on Hawk Pride Mountain. Harry ordered it distributed equally among the teams; our portion came today. I kept two pounds for moments like these and passed the rest on to Pham. Our women will have fresh coffee at breakfast for the next two days.”

Therese responded, “Just think, some of these girls have never tasted coffee.”

Carol slowly nodded, “I know. It will be special.”

Redirecting, Abby asked, “Carol, we didn’t even hear the field phone ring.”

Carol’s face dropped. “Yes, you two were sleeping soundly. It was Sarah Haney. Harry had directed her to contact all the district leaders and the Slingshot commanders to let them know that his daddy, Wade Smith, has passed away… just around midnight. I’ve got to be at the council chamber at ten. Abby, you’ll drive me and watch my six. Therese, you’ll have the camp.”

“What time do you want to leave?” asked Abby.

“Um, let’s lets leave an hour early, I want to talk to some of the other commanders before the meeting.”

“I’ll have your vehicle ready and waiting at nine.”

The three had taken seats around Carol’s desk. They reminisced about Wade for a few minutes, cried over his passing, and emptied the coffee pot. President Henry Wade Smith IV had been their benevolent monarch for 45 years. The reign of Henry Wade Smith V had begun.

The sentries changed and Carol directed, “Abby, make sure they’ve got what they need out there, and then, you run along to bed. I want to visit with Therese a little while … just a few more details I want to review.”

Surprised, Therese stood apprehensively and nodded goodnight to Abby.

Abby informed, “Therese, I’ll pull your bed curtains around, all but one, and turn your covers down. We’ve been leaving one lantern dimly lit. It’ll give you enough light to make your way back to your cot.”

“Thanks, Abby.”

Abby cinched her pistol belt tight then lifted her M4 from the corner. She closed and secured the canvas door flaps after exiting.

Carol stepped over to open a trunk. She pulled out a glass jar, gave it a shake then held it up to her lamp for examination. She smiled at the circle of big bubbles around the side.

Therese watched intently and thought, _hundred-proof!_

Carol coaxed, “Sit back down, Therese. I said that would be the last drink earlier before dinner, but I need one more, and I thought it best be a strong one.”

Therese felt relieved. She was enthralled watching Carol in the lamplight.

Carol shared a mischievous smile with Therese as she unscrewed the old Ball jar’s lid and poured them each a small glass of the clear liquid. She asked, “Have you had moonshine, Therese?”

“Yes, I have. The boys scrounged a jar every once in a while.”

Carol handed Therese a glass.

“Thank you.”

Carol eased down into her chair, then chimed, “Got a kick, huh … burns like fire.”

“White lightning.”

“Corn liquor.”

“Stump.”

“Sugar whiskey.”

“Shhiiiine!”

They tried to muffle their laughter, but still, a cackle or two slipped out. Embarrassed, they shushed each other then gingerly took a sip.”

Therese reacted, “Ummm.”

Carol smiled at Therese with her blue eyes flickering in the lamplight.

Therese’s green eyes glowed beneath her dark sultry eyebrows.

They had felt it from their first glances, that connection as ancient as humankind.

Carol already knew what a package Therese was, well before this day. Still, as the day progressed with every encounter, exchange, and observation, Therese had exceeded each preconception by just a bit, sometimes, just the tiniest. Now, here she was staring Carol down. Carol broke first by glancing at her glistening potion and asking, “The meeting tonight, you thought it went well?”

Therese had to pry herself out of their eye fucking and think about the question, _What did you say, you gorgeous creature? Something about the meeting? Tonight’s meeting … oh!_ “Yes, I think it went well. We’ll get those bastards tomorrow, and we won’t lose a single girl.”

“Your confidence is …”

Therese whispered, “Intoxicating?”

Carol shot her eyes back at the young woman’s. _What are you, temptress, twenty … one? Yes, the file listed your birthday in ST49. I thought you were shy, but … you’re simply a woman of few words and much action. That’s fourteen less than my thirty-five. My God, that’s the prettiest neck I’ve ever seen. Carol, you can’t do this. After Abby, you said, 'never again.' You’re lucky she stayed. Daddy always said, ‘Daughter, keep your libido out of your work.’ But, Daddy, She’s so cute … so fucking cute._

Therese’s eyes were back in Carol’s. They were fucking her again. Her cunt burned. _Oh, those lips, those heavenly lips. I’ve got to taste them._

As if some magic chord was struck, they both placed their half-emptied glasses on the desk and stood. They had removed their pistol belts earlier, just after the meeting; Carol’s 9mm was looped on one of the prongs of her eclectic coat rack while Therese’s .45 was neatly rolled up and resting on top of Carol’s portable filing cabinet.

Therese thought, _Shit! We’re gonna do this. One or both of us could be dead or hooked up to an IV in two days. Oh, what the fuck!_ She reached down and slipped open the buckle of her web belt; two thumbs loosened her trousers.

Carol was mesmerized, but she had the wherewithal to converse. Just loud enough for her stalwart sentries to hear, she asked, “Have you checked our supplies?” Her long, elegant fingers went to work on her own buckle and fatigues.

“Yes, Ma’am … I met with Corporal Cody in between dinner and the meeting. She has us twenty-tenned.” Therese stepped to the end of the desk.

Carol emitted one muffled chuckle at Therese’s reference to the appropriate Slingshot inventory regulation. She moved to meet Therese. “That’s good, Sergeant; Cody knows her job.”

As they grasped each other’s forearms and gazed, Therese responded, “She does … All of our people do … you’ve put together quite the team, Major.”

“Yes, I’m so proud of them. Oh, I wanted you to proof this memorandum before I distribute it. Here, is there enough light?”

“Oh, yes, there’s ample light. Wow, this is long.”

“Go ahead, take your time, Sergeant.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” said Therese as she moved to dock her lips on Carol’s.

Carol opened her mouth ever so slightly to receive Therese.

The rush took the pair to another world. Their hands and fingers danced and stroked until they found one another’s bottoms. Therese broke the kiss and nibbled on the taller Carol’s neck. Carol fought to defeat any audible evidence of this pleasure. Therese had to do the same when Carol buried her nose and mouth in Therese’s ear.

As if commanded, their right hands dove down the front of their loosened fatigues and found their targets. Their legs spaghettied below the quivering genitalia. Therese melted to her knees pulling down Carol’s trousers and panties as she went. She launched her mouth up and into Carol’s crotch. Carol felt lightheaded as she came; it took every ounce of her being to remain silent.

Therese slipped back on the canvass floor, pulling Carol down with her. Therese’s pretty little bush and vagina were exposed. Carol scooted away a bit to better engage them with her lips, teeth, and tongue. While she feasted, Carol slid her hands up to caress and massage Therese’s breasts. Even through Therese’s clothing, Carol felt them burning, two perfect orbs sent from heaven.

Therese clenched her teeth to suppress the moans and screams. She brought up her sleeve and bit its cuff. It bought her enough resistance to remain silent.

Eventually, Carol crawled up to embrace Therese. The two alpha females held one another deathly tight for lost minutes. They heard the sentries outside casually bitching about the cold. Therese whispered, “Mission completed successfully, Major.”

Carol buried her face in Therese’s neck to mute her laughter.

Therese glanced at her watch then rolled onto her front to stand on wobbly legs. She reached for her glass and swallowed the contents in a single gulp. She somewhat loudly proclaimed, “Well, Major, that’s perfect. I wouldn’t change a thing.”

Carol had stood and was working to secure her britches. She acknowledged, “Thanks, Top. I really appreciate that. Now, you need to go get some shut-eye.”

“Yes, Ma’am, and you should as well.”

“Of course.”

A few minutes later, Therese was slipping around the barn’s centrally-located lantern to find the cot that was calling her name. Only a couple of noncoms were snoring, and those only gently so. Groggily, Therese removed her uniform and carefully spread it out on top of her covers. She felt closing the last curtain would be claustrophobic, so she left it tied off and slipped under her covers. She curled up on her side and brought her right hand up to her face. Therese nestled the knuckles under her nose and gently inhaled. _Night, night, Carol._


	7. Game On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In honor of Sarah Paulson.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [](https://imgur.com/3Bo5z5h)

“You’re certainly all aglow this morning, Major Hottie.”

“Oh, Abby, you do go on.”

“What, I’m just sayin’!”

“I just feel good. Is that okay? Pay attention to the road.”

Abby relented from her teasing as she eagerly craned to see what vehicles might already be parked outside the Lauderdale Council Chamber. There were eight Slingshot parking spaces directly in front of the chamber building. The facility had been a county courthouse in the Old World. It was in pretty good condition considering its age and the damage it incurred during the Three Day War in ST61.

Abby counted two Humvees. “The 1 and the 5 are here, plus a shit load of civilian vehicles, the district leaders’ I guess.”

“I see. Oh, there’s Daddy and Clara talking on the steps. Hey, I’m gonna head straight up to join them. Give my regards to your buddies.

“Yes, Ma’am.” Abby eased up in the 2’s parking place and urged, “Okay, run, run!”

Carol was out in a flash, clasping her attaché under her arm and scurrying up the steps to her father and the Slingshot 5 commander.

Abby put the Humvee in park and set the break. The engine chugged along for a few seconds after she turned it off. She exited, then noticed the Team 5 shooters positioned around the facility and decided to leave her M4 in the vehicle. She straightened up her pistol belt, checked her face in the side mirror, smiled, and turned towards Clara Smith’s vehicle a few spaces away.

Dannie had seen her walking towards him, and he eagerly popped out of his driver’s seat to greet her. “Abby, how in the hell are ya, girl?”

“I’m fine, Dannie, given all this shit.”

They hugged, then she clasped his cheeks and turned his black-haired handsome head from side to side as if one might examine a new horse. Abby asked, “Aw, Dannie, you look tired. Is him an his bruhda not duin duid mit out his Tweze to tuck dwem in?”

“Don’t even bring that up. We hate you.”

Abby laughed, then she and Dannie both turned to check the source of an approaching vehicle. Another Humvee appeared, and they could see a number 4 nestled in the Y-shaped slingshot image of its front bumper plate.

Abby announced, “And there’s Major Fuqua.”

“Who’s driving him, Abby?”

The sharp-eyed corporal squinted and answered, “Ravon Gregg.”

Oh, my God, please promise my y’all won’t do it.”

“It? What it?”

“You know, the thing.”

“Fuck you, Dannie, we got skills.”

“Skills? My ass!”

The 4 pulled up in its spot next to the 5, and Dannie and Abby saluted Major William Fuqua as he exited the passenger seat of his vehicle. He returned their salutes with a curt, “Hello, Gerhard. Hi, McElroy.”

Together they returned a courteous, “Good morning, Major.”

The six-three 260-pound Slingshot 4 commander motioned at the other Humvees and asked Abby, “Have they been here long?”

“No, Sir, just a few minutes. They have just stepped inside.”

He nodded, then raced up the steps.

Dannie and Abby watched him disappear into the chamber building. Then Abby turned to gaze through the windshield of the 4’s Humvee. The door flew open, and out jumped a lanky Slingshot corporal with a grin to kill for. He stood with his arms stretched wide and his fingers giggling, waving Abby in.

Abby had already assumed the same pose and gyrations.

“Abby dabby do, how are you?”

“Ravon, I’m fine, and I got the look.”

“Oh, you think you got the look?

I‘ve got the look!”

Ravon pointed to Dannie and asked, “Help us out here, McElroy.”

Dannie had been shaking his head, then he relented and started a steady clap and stomp beat.

Abby howled, “Yeah, Dannie Boy, that’s good, and she began to pop her hips and shoulders to the beat. Her neck-length, auburn hair flew into a saucer as she spun.

The two nearest sentries surprised them all by tapping their rifles’ butt plates on the granite foundations upon which they stood. The metallic impacts matched Dannie’s stomps perfectly.

Ravon was parroting Abby’s moves by now, and he began a monologue:

"Here we are, folks  
The dream we all dream of  
Boy versus girl in the World Series of love  
Tell me, have you got the look?"

Then he began to sing impressively:

"You walked in; I woke up.  
I've never seen a pretty girl  
Look so tough, baby

You got that look

Color you peach and black  
Color me takin' aback  
Crucial, I think I want ya."

Abby took over with her damn fine voice:

"You've got the look (You've got the hook)  
You sho'nuf do be cookin' in my book.  
Your face is jammin'.  
Your body's heck-a-slammin'.  
If love is good  
Let's get to rammin'."

Then together:

"You’ve got the look.  
You’ve got the look."

They all broke down in laughter. Ravon walked over and fist-bumped Dannie. Abby ran over and jumped up to hug both Ravon and Dannie at the same time. The pair of shooters regained their low ready muzzle down stances while still chuckling.

The three were still carrying on when one of the shooters called down, warning, “Hey, y’all, it’s the 8.”

Demeanors shifted, and the three drifted back to stand in the empty Slingshot 3 parking place.

Slingshot 8 pulled almost recklessly into the parking lot and found its slot on the end. The passenger door opened, and a suit and tied, six-foot, strapping young man emerged from the front passenger seat. He shared nods and a warm, sincere smile with the drivers and the two closest shooters. Then he walked towards Abby. With tearing eyes, she stepped to meet him. They hugged.

Still embraced, Abby comforted, “Oh, Harry, I’m so sorry about your daddy. We loved him so much … we’ll miss him.”

Harry stepped back still holding her upper arms. “Thanks, Abby, I appreciate that.”

She asked, “How’s your sister taking this?”

“Philippa is taking it pretty damn well,” Harry replied as he choked back tears.

Abby grinned and said, “And look at you, President Harry Smith, all shaved and dressed up … haircut, too. Damn, you’re enough to turn a gay girl straight.”

Harry laughed out loud, appreciating the shift from sorrow, and jibed, “Well, in that case, I’ll see ya after the meeting.”

She laughed and released him to shake hands with Dannie and Ravon. Harry was up the steps and gone in seconds.

Abby’s mood shifted as she turned to find Harry’s entourage crawling out of the 8. Corporal Thomas Nim growled, “You’re looking fine, Abby dabby do, real fine.”

“Go to hell, Nim, and quit using my tag.”

Corporal Chance Bardolph exclaimed, “What the fuck’s the matter, Gerhard? Are those reserved for you and the rest of your muff divers?

“Pretty much, dickwad.”

Dannie interjected, “All right, you two, chill, this ain’t the time or place for this shit.”

Bardolph locked a fierce gaze on Dannie.

Another old tobacco voice came from the 8. It’s driver, Sergeant Mortimer Johns, had emerged and was coming around the front of their vehicle. His two shoulder holstered Colt Model 1911 pistols swung as he walked. “That’s right; it ain’t the time or place. Nim, Bardolph, why don’t you two go get us some coffee and donuts.” He gestured to the diner across the street.

Bardolph grumped, “Why don’t you send Robby?”

“Cause I’m sending you two motherfuckers.”

Exasperated, Nim tapped Bardolph’s arm and they slumped away.

Abby reached out to shake the Sergeant’s hand. He took it in both of his and smiled, “Abby, you bring out the best in those two.”

“I know! Don’t I though?”

He released her hand, chuckled, and went over to shake Dannie’s and Ravon’s.

Continuing to improve the mood, Dannie asked the sergeant, “1911, I hear congratulations are in order?”

Surprised, “1911” Johns, muttered, “Oh, yeah, I guess so.”

Abby zeroed on the old warrior’s obvious embarrassment and followed up, “What’s this? Congratulations on what?”

“Well, Miss Nell and I got married yesterday.”

“Married?” Abby could have had some fun with this, but she respected 1911 too much.”

She spontaneously hugged him and chimed, “Congratulations, Mort. Hell, you can retire now, put your feet up, and get fat.”

“That would be, fat … ter.”

They all came close and patted his shoulders and back.

Ravon proclaimed, “Awnaw, Sarge you ain’t fat. I hope…”

“What … you look as good as I do when you’re my age?”

“Well, yeah. Hell yeah!”

Abby noted the orphan boy, Robby, moping in the back of the 8's vehicle. She whispered to 1911, "Is something wrong with Robby?"

1911 gave a concerned glance at the thirteen-year-old tagalong, then answered, "Oh, you probably haven't heard; Robby's old ward, Captain Falstaff, died last night, just about the same time as Wade."

"No! Really? How sad."

"Yep, right down the hall from each other."

Abby started to walk over to give comfort, but 1911 gently grab her arm. "Naw, Abby, best let him be."

Reluctantly, she conceded.

A Slingshot 5 LMTV broke the stillness. It roared in and stopped at the curb directly in front of the steps. The 5’s Alpha Squad leader, Sergeant Tim Bratton, helped an elderly gentleman out of the back of the truck and escorted him into the chamber building. Bratton was carrying a strange wooden box.

1911 murmured, “They come bearing gifts.”

Abby asked, “Who’s that, 1911?”

“That is a Colbert, my dear. I remember him. Back in the peace, he used to teach at the Florence College.”

“What’s his name?”

“Johnny Montjoy.”

Abby, age thirty-six, mentioned, “Oh, I remember that name. He taught my cousin.”

“Octavia?”

“That’s right.”

“She was pretty.”

“She was, indeed.”

They considered going to talk to the crewman of the LMTV but opted out.

Abby, 1911, and Ravon glanced questioningly at Dannie. Dannie shrugged, “Fuck, I don’t know what’s up with that. I don’t even think the Captain would.”

Just before ten hundred, the commanders of Slingshots 3, 6, and 7 arrived in a convoy of their respective Humvees.

At eleven hundred, Montjoy and Sergeant Bratton emerged from the building. Followed by three more men, Abby was shocked upon recognizing them as Harry’s three traitorous cousins. She kept a poker face, not knowing who of her peers was aware of the coup, but a wink from the salty 1911 clarified that he was in the know. They watched intently as the entire group clambered into the LMTV and departed.

Ravon wondered aloud, “What the fuck is up with that?”

At noon the council meeting’s attendees cascaded down to the steps to their eclectic mix of conveyances. Dannie, 1911, and Ravon moved to their Humvees and opened the passenger doors for their officers. Abby watched for Carol and anxiously tapped her toe as the other drivers departed with their charges. Several long minutes passed before Harry and Carol left the building. In hushed tones, they continued their conversation to the bottom of the old courthouse steps. Carol and Harry hugged then turned to their rides. Abby had Carol’s door open; her major slid into the passenger seat.

Abby already had the engine running. As soon as she took her driver’s seat and closed her door, Carol began to speak. Abby knew her well. Carol was in full commander mode. Abby did not want to make Carol repeat herself on any of the information that was about to be put forth. Abby focused.

“Okay, Abby, here’s the deal. Harry duped his cousins into leaving with Bratton under the guise of having them prestigiously escort the Colbert envoy back to the dam. Yes, Montjoy did not take a launch; unannounced, he crossed under a white flag using the Wilson Dam’s roadway. That’s where they have deposited him.

“I called Therese from the phone in there and ordered her to deploy Alpha. The 5 are shading the cousins, and our girls, dressed in civvies will take over as situations allow. We’ll be locked on them within the hour, and the 5’s personnel can return to their marshaling post in East Florence.

“Now, once the three trolls were out of the chamber, Harry brought everyone else in tight and went over his plans. In a nutshell, we’ll observe those cousins and keep Harry notified. At some point, he’ll call the shot; that’s when will take them either together or split, whichever the situation calls for.

“Abby, it has to happen today because the invasion is on for tomorrow. Harry’s source in Colbert reports that the Raglands are primed and ready. They have marshaled at their Black Force Training Center and can attack upon marching orders. Those orders could come quickly as Harry politely told old Professor Montjoy to tell Little Charles Ragland to fuck off.”

Abby chuckled, “No, shit?”

“Yep, and get this, we’ve scheduled Wade’s state funeral for tomorrow at thirteen hundred with a graveside service at fifteen hundred. Harry’s using all that commotion and movement to cover our final massing for the invasion. The artillery barrages will start around sixteen hundred, then we roll.”

“Holy shit, Carol. What about that big gap in the Singing River Bridge?”

“Well, my dear, that’s complicated. I tell you what, let’s get back to camp. I told Therese to have the noncoms ready for a briefing at thirteen hundred. I’ll go over it all then in more detail. Therese said she would have Pham’s people bring you and me lunch plates. They’ll be in my tent upon our arrival. Speaking of that, let’s get out of here, Abby; I’m starved.”

Abby knew her best friend and commander too well; at moments like these, it was best to leave Carol to her own thoughts. Abby backed the Humvee out, resolving to not initiate any conversation, light or heavy, on their return to the North Florence camp.


	8. Waiting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear Casper1066 (SS2 tagged C-ghost),
> 
> You asked, “PS How many people are in Carol’s squad? (do you call it a squad?)”
> 
> Hear is way more info than you asked for, but this should prove a handy reference for you and all the beloved readers of SS2.
> 
> The Lauderdales’ Slingshot Defense Force is a custom creation of my imagination. In its entirety, it is about the size of a present-day Army battalion. Created by Harry Smith’s now late father, Wade, decades earlier, he reasoned that a flexible unit of modest size, but high skill and firepower, would be more efficient than his cumbersome and unruly civilian militias. The Slingshot Defense Force has increased in size and power over the years. At the time of this story (ST70 or Spared Territory Year 70), there are eight teams. 
> 
> Here ya go, C-ghost:
> 
> Slingshot Defense Force: the Teams, their commanders, their home bases, their primary mission, their accouterment
> 
> Slingshot 1 – Colonel Phil Goins – Cloverdale – Northern Wall security, 4 Humvee, 6 LMTV, 2 MTV, 4 squads of shooters. SS1 houses the primary maintenance, medical, and supply operations for the Teams. A field commander at heart, Phil Goins has his adjutant and former son-in-law, Lieutenant Colonel Harge Aird, oversee most of the Teams’ logistical and administrative functions. 
> 
> Slingshot 2 – Major Carol Aird (Phil’s daughter) – North Florence – flexible response – 4 Humvee, 4 LMTV, 3 squads of shooters
> 
> Slingshot 3 – Major Wayne Morris – Anderson – Eastern Wall/border/Wheeler Dam security – 3 Humvee, 2 LMTV, 2 squads of shooters. 
> 
> Slingshot 4 – Major William Fuqua – West Florence – flexible response – 4 Humvee, 4 LMTV, 3 squads of shooters.
> 
> Slingshot 5 – Captain Clara Smith (Harry’s cousin) – East Florence – Wilson Hydroelectric Dam security and flexible response – 4 Humvee, 4 LMTV, 2 deuce and a halves
> 
> Slingshot 6 – Captain Bedford Smith (Harry’s cousin) – Waterloo (no shit, it's on the Tennessee River near the Tenn./Ala. State line) – Western border security and flexible response – 2 Humvee, 1 LMTV, 1 squad of shooters
> 
> Slingshot 7 – Chester Hayes (Harry’s cousin) – Killen – flexible response – 3 Humvee, 2 LMTV, 2 squads of shooters
> 
> Slingshot 8 – The Lauderdale president’s Humvee and security team. Like monarchs of old and in times of war, the Lauderdale presidents (read kings) have always led from the front. Given his father’s poor health, young Harry has been handling this responsibility for several years. 
> 
> Each Slingshot Team has an officer and a first sergeant in overall command of 1 to 4 squads of shooters. Weapons – handgun of their choice and an M4 carbine (5.56mm)
> 
> Each squad (Alpha, Bravo, Charlie) has a squad leader (sergeant) and an assistant squad leader (corporal). Weapons – handgun of their choice and an M4 carbine or M16A4 rifle (5.56mm)
> 
> There are 8 shooters (privates) in a squad consisting of a gunner and assistant gunner armed with either an M240 (7.62mm) or M249 (5.56mm) machinegun and 2X3 fire and maneuver elements armed with M16A4 rifles (5.56mm) or telescopically sighted LLSR-10 (7.62mm) 
> 
> After all, that being said, C-ghost, Carol, and Therese command a team containing three squads. Their personnel would number 50 at the beginning of this story.
> 
> Regards, 
> 
> Danny

With her Alpha Squad deployed and the balance of her well-honed team nervously waiting, Carol assigned Therese to create and oversee a shooting competition for the afternoon. Therese recalled Carol’s last two sentences on the matter. _Nothing elaborate, Therese, just something appropriate for our small range, and you know we can’t spare the precious rifle ammo, so only handguns using the arsenal reloads. Priority one, Angel, we might be called to action in the middle of it, so we must be able to gun up, jump in the vehicles, and go._

Twenty feet from Carol’s tent, Therese had the competition all worked out in her head, but what really had her gobsmacked was the “Angel” part. She floated along with a broken record repeating, _Angel, Angel, Angel._ The appearance of Abby knocked the record off its turntable.

“What’s up, Top-rese?”

“Oh, hey, do we have a fuckin’ bullhorn?”

“Ooh, what ya gonna do with that bull’s horn, honey?”

“Geez, Abby, I’m serious; you know, a megaphone?”

“Oh, no, Therese. Well, I take that back.”

“We do?”

“Yes, but it’s broken.”

“Well, fuck!”

“However, oh-pissed-off-one, we do have a PA system.”

“Yes, I have noticed the speakers around camp. But, I haven’t heard them being used.”

“That’s because we have to conserve them; just like all this other 70-year-old Old World shit, the system is on its last leg.”

“Well, I’m taking the last leg.”

“Yes, Sergeant! Let’s just go see Corporal Dollar and fire that baby up.”

The less than stalwart PA system gave Therese the minute and a half she needed to explain her sidearm competition. The hoots and hollers that resounded around camp bore witness to the intelligence of “Major Hottie” and the organizational ability of “Top-rese.

Of course, Alpha was afield, but Bravo, Charlie, Supply, Mess, and Command would each select their three best pistol shooters. These three shooters would engage in a speed drill, a wounded soldier drill, and a precision bullseye challenge. The highest point total would take the prize, a hard to come by case of Lauderdale Pop.

The competition was a hit. Electricity filled the air after Ringo and her best two dropped jaws by scoring the full sixty points on the steel plates, the same on the wounded soldier drill, and 96 out of a hundred points on the bullseye target. They were the next to last to shoot, and they had the score to beat up to that point.

The team members went crazy as Command stepped up to the firing line. Carol, Therese, and Abby had carefully decided who would take what. The speed challenge gave the shooter three seconds to draw and engage six steel plates, scoring ten points for each plate knocked down within said three seconds. Abby cleaned the plates in 2.98 seconds.

The wounded soldier drill called for the shooter while holding one of her sister shooters draped over her weak-side shoulder, to draw her sidearm with her strong hand and engage six steel humanoid silhouettes as she crossed them moving parallel. Each steel silhouette knocked down within the allotted ten seconds was worth ten points. It was decided that petite Therese would ride on Carol’s shoulder.

Carol and Therese stepped in the start box to the left of the row of silhouettes. Then playing to the crowd, Carol leaned towards Therese and commanded, “Come to Mamma!”

Team 2 howled _._ Team medic Rita Black had been appointed as the objective party to run the shooters. The raucous spectators forced her to yell, “shooter ready” and then “stand by” before hitting the timer.

After its three-second delay, the timer loudly sounded. Carol drew and stepped off the crossing distance of ten yards firing as she went. Halfway across, in a crazy moment, she thought, _Well, it's one way to hold her today._ All silos fell, and their time was 9.1 seconds.

A few minutes later, Therese coolly put ten .45 caliber slugs in the 10-ring of her bullseye target for the full 100 points. Sergeant Ringo slumped to her knees. Random cheers and screams rolled into an orderly, repeated chant of, “Major Hottie, Top-rese, Abby dabby do!” “Major Hottie, Top-rese, Abby dabby do!”

As things calmed down, Therese and Abby double-teamed an ice chest of soft drinks and placed them at Carol’s feet. Carol pulled one out and walked it over to her beloved Bravo leader. She handed it to Ringo then turned, announcing, “Therese, Abby, and I took the liberty of icing down all three of our remaining cases. I want every last one of you to get a soda, and be sure to save enough for Alpha.”

Therese barked, “Team 2, before you grab your drink, let's get all this match shit put away.”

A few minutes later, Therese’s folks had the range cleared and were calmly filing by the ice chests claiming their treasure. She thanked Ringo for having her squad deliver drinks to the sentries stationed around camp.

A shooter at the chest called her, “Hey, Top! Here ya go!”

Therese took the cold drink, and despite the nip in the air, pulled the damp, cold glass across her forehead; she had worked up a sweat. She walked to Carol’s tent, and after nodding to the two sentries stationed nearby, she paused at the entrance, “Permission to enter, Major?”

“Permission granted, Top.”

Therese entered, and Carol stepped to her to tap her bottle against Therese’s. She softly cooed, “Well done, Angel. Have a seat.”

“Suppressing a burning urge to kiss her, Therese sat down and asked, “Anything new from Alpha?”

“Yes, all three of the traitors seem to have settled in at Biscuit Grey’s house.”

“Whoa, that’s handy… our backdoor.”

“Exactly, and if they don’t move, Harry wants us to rendezvous with him over at the old Seven Points Shopping Center at 19:30. What do you think? Should we be there at 19:00?”

“Sounds right. Will just the Alpha squad be enough, Carol?”

“Good question. Let’s three go over in my Humvee and have four of Ringo’s Bravo shooters follow us in another one.”

“That’s sound. I’ll go see to that.”

“No, no, Therese. It’s only sixteen hundredish, stay and talk to me. I want to get to know you better.”

Therese leaned back and smiled, “There’s not much to know, Carol, that ain’t in that file.”

“I don’t know… hey, where’d you learn to shoot like that? I’ve seen you at the Interteams as well.”

“My daddy taught me to shoot with a .22 rifle at eight. He would always say, ‘You’re a natural, Therese.’ We hunted small game with that .22 and his shotgun, and later, larger game with his old .30-30.”

“Deer and boar?”

“Yep, and some predators.”

“Oh, wolves?”

“Un-huh,” Therese murmured as she fixated on Carol’s succulent lips.”

“And then, there was the Academy?”

“That’s right. We had skeet, rifle, and pistol teams. Did you go to Florence, Carol?”

“Yes. Well, through the 8th, then I had tutors.”

“What? Really?”

“I did … excellent tutors.” Carol got a faraway look in her eyes and said, “It was for the best.”

“Was that lonely?

“Well, no … Uh, kinda.”

“Actually, so was the Academy. You can be lonely without being alone.”

Carol seemed to return. She gazed into Therese’s eyes and whispered, just loud enough for Therese to hear, “Last night was lovely… marvelous.”

All Therese could manage was a nod.

They heard Abby ask, “Permission to enter, Major?”

“Granted.”

Therese stood as Abby entered and said, “If that will be all, Carol, I’ll go catch up with Ringo and arrange for those four shooters.”

“That’s fine, Therese. That’ll be all. You’re dismissed.”

“Thank you, Ma’am. See ya, Abby.”

Abby noted how Carol watched Therese depart. She patiently, silently waited for Carol to come back down to earth.

Halfway to the Bravo area, Therese noticed the bottle in her hand. She had hardly touched it. She took a swig. It wasn’t as cold as before, but it still tasted good… effervescent and sweet… like Carol.


	9. Out of the Mouths of Babes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a big pill that you have to swallow, 4,400 words of enlightenment.

Upon her return to the command tent from updating Ringo, Therese observed Abby exit Carol's tent racing towards the smoking area in what was an obviously aggravated state. Therese considered catching up with Abby to see what had her upset, but she decided to leave it be and check in with Carol.

“Permission to enter, Major?”

“Enter.”

Carol was standing with both palms down on her desk and shaking her head.

“Carol, what’s wrong?”

“Oh, Harry called … rather he had Sarah Haney call, and she relayed a request.”

“What does he need?”

“Actually, he has something for us.”

“Oh!”

“Yes … hey, you checked on our night vision equipment, didn’t you?”

“Yes, Ma’am. We had four sets per squad, but only half of those were working. I pooled the working sets to make sure Alpha had the six working sets for today’s mission.”

“Yes, I thought that’s what you reported earlier. I had mentioned to Daddy this morning. Well, it seems some of Daddy’s supply people came up with ten more sets, and he had them put them on a supply truck this afternoon.”

“We could sure use those, Carol.”

“Absolutely, but here’s the deal, the truck broke down somewhere up near Green Hill. The driver called Daddy’s HQ from the nearby school’s phone, and when Daddy heard about it, he decided the best thing to do was for him and Momma to detour and retrieve the sets from the truck driver. They are driving in for a gathering at the Smith Compound.”

“So, Colonel Goins is bringing them here?”

“I wish. He and momma are invited to attend Philippa Smith-Carter’s supper of mourning for Wade and Captain Falstaff. He won’t have time to come all the way here first.”

“So, we need to send someone over there to get them.”

“Yes. I gave Abby the assignment, but she got distraught. Therese, do you have issues with Harry’s crew?”

Therese chuckled, “The 8? Other than there being ornery old horn dogs, no.”

“Well, Abby has already had one encounter with that Bardolph fucker this morning, and she knows she’s likely to have to hang around with them over there waiting on Daddy and Momma to arrive.”

“I’d hate to have to weaken any of our squads at the moment, and I’d rather not send her. Honestly, Therese, I don’t know what she’s got on that Bardolph, but I think she’d kill him if he pushes it.”

“I got it, Carol. I’ll take your Humvee if that’s okay and be over there and back as fast as I can.”

“Thank you. Hey, chows just about ready; you’ll miss dinner. Do you want me to have them save you something?”

“Don’t worry about it. I’d be shocked if that sweet Philippa doesn’t have food for all the support personnel that will be at that size function. I’ll nab something there.”

“Well, be careful, and of course, I’ll alert Ringo and Peeks that you are out of the compound.”

Therese pulled into the Smith compound about 20 minutes later. The guards recognized her and waved her through the gate. She spotted all the vehicles at Philippa’s house and paused for a minute to figure out where she could park. One of the guards stepped up and startled her, “Hey, Top, let me help you out. See that low building over to the left?”

“That multi-vehicle garage?

“Yes, Sergeant, just park in front of any of those garage doors. No Smiths will be leaving tonight. The family is on lockdown.”

“Thanks, Private.”

Therese parked and walked towards the house. 1911 Johns stepped from a shadow.

“Hey, Therese.”

“Oh, hey, Mort.” She never liked calling him a number even though it was a cool one.

“Harry stepped out a few minutes ago and asked me to keep an eye out for you. He asked me to have you wait with us in the garage, and he’d get that night vision shit to you as soon as Goins gets here.”

“Oh, good. That’s a relief; I really didn’t want to go up into that house full of upper crusts.”

“I hear that, sister. Hey, you want some chow? They got us a spread in here.”

“That sounds great.”

“Was the drive over okay?”

“Yep, at least it isn’t raining.”

“Really, we really need this weather to hold for a few days.”

“That’s for sure.”

They entered the garage, and Therese laughed. The men had set up lawn chairs around an old ping pong-table and were enjoying an assortment of Smith family home cooking.

Enamored with their food, Bardolph and Nim barely managed a nod to her. A boy looking to be in his early teens stood and insisted Therese take his chair. She tried to decline, but the boy insisted, and quick as a cat, he had himself another chair.

Mort asked, “Therese, have you met our young Robby?”

“Why no, I haven’t. Hello, Robby. It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you too, Sergeant Belivet.”

“Oh, have we met somewhere?”

“No, no … it’s just that … uh, every Slingshot knows who you are.”

Therese felt her cheeks flush and did her best to dismiss it with a laugh.

Mort handed her a plate, napkin, and utensils. “Dig in, Top!”

Therese sampled a little of everything: chicken and dressing, lima beans, turnip greens, a slice of ham, and some apple pie for dessert. Before starting on her pie, she recalled Abby’s sharing of 1911’s big news. Therese patted his arm and said, “Mort, congratulations on your marriage.”

“Thanks, Therese, it was a helluva short honeymoon.”

Everyone laughed.

Suddenly, it dawned on Therese that she had seen his bride yesterday. A sudden fear of heckling and embarrassment clouded her happy mood. After some moments passed with no teasing or jibes, Therese realized the absolute confidentiality Nell and her staff must maintain. If these men did not know of Therese’s “business” yesterday, it was all the more impressive, for Therese knew that this crew actually had permanent rooms at Nell’s inn and took most of their meals at her restaurant. After a couple of more minutes, Therese sighed and let it go.

She had enjoyed spring water with the meal and a fine coffee with her dessert. She sat back, sipping away and listening to the old soldiers’ chatter and recount their stories. True, they were miscreants, but their utter loyalty to Harry Smith helped balance the scales.

At one point, Robby went to get one of the Lauderdale Pops they had earlier tossed into a bucket of ice.

Mort leaned over and whispered to Therese, “He ain’t got no last name; he’s an orphan boy. Harry just kinda took a shine to him last year, and he’s been with us ever since.”

Robby returned and filled his plate for the third time and continued eating. Therese smiled to think how lucky the boy was to have found some warmth and affection in the stark Spared Territory.

After a whiled, Robby pushed his empty plate back, and after a long draw of his “coldrank,” took a thoughtful look at their Slingshot 8 Humvee. They had parked it into the adjoining bay and pulled the door down. He turned to 1911 and asked, “Hey, Sergeant Johns, are there any Humvees left in storage?”

1911 paused a moment in consideration of “need to know.” He concluded, _Hell, this kid is ‘inside’ now._ He looked the boy in the eyes and spoke, “Robby, son, this is inside stuff I’m about to tell you. You know what that means, right?”

“Yes, sir. I only share this info with Slingshot team members.”

“Good, that’s right, son.”

Knowing this was an important conversation, Nim and Bardolph turned to listen. He would be a team member, official or not, after this.

Robby looked around at the old soldiers and settled on 1911’s gaze.

1911 asked Robby, “How much Spared Territory history do you know, Robby?”

“Well, I know that 70 years ago, some sort of sickness was killing people all over the world. The Lord spared Colbert and Lauderdale counties, or what was better known as the Muscle Shoals Area. It was then part of the State of Alabama of the United States of America. God sent doctors with special medicine to keep us from getting the sickness. Two best friends, Henry Smith of Lauderdale and Charles Ragland of Colbert, bravely took charge of their counties and worked together to keep the sickness, The Mad Flu, out of their land. People started callin’ the two counties the ‘Spared Territory' 'cause everybody else in the whole world died. Mr. Ragland and Mr. Smith had their people put up walls and fences around the territory to keep infected people out. The Mad Flu made people crazy just before they died. The Spared Territory’s citizens had to use guns, flamethrowers, bombs, and even poison to keep the crazy infected old-world people out.

“For a while, things went well in the ST. We even tried to venture out into the Old World to look for supplies, but none of the search parties ever came back. It’s like somethin’ in the OW just snatched ‘em up. Since then, our only activity outside the walls is some logging … not far out and heavily guarded. Later on, the two friends had a fallin’ out. In year 21, the two families tried to kill each other off. A feud started between the two sides of the river. It lasted until year 26. Thousands of militiamen were killed from both sides, but all of the fightin’ took place over here. We now call that the Long War. A Lauderdale demolition squad took out 200 feet of the Natchez Trace Bridge to prevent western invasions from Colbert, and the Colberts did the same to the traffic bridge over the Wheeler Dam in the east. In 25, Big Charles and Henry Smith died a few months apart. They passed the power on to their sons, Little Charles in Colbert and Wade Smith of Lauderdale … who we bury tomorrow. They called a truce and signed a treaty. That was when The Peace started … with the Treaty of 26.

“There was no fightin’ for a long, long time. Then in 61, the Colbert and Lauderdale churches got into it, and a Colbert High Church official shot a Lauderdale Low Church preacher at a public meeting. A Lauderdale Low Church militia group took over the Wilson Dam and shut off Colbert’s power feed. Wade Smith was tryin’ to get his militiamen out of the Dam and return control to the dam back to the Colberts, as per the Treaty of 26. Little Charles wouldn’t wait; he ordered a sneak attack on the Lauderdale defense forces. The eight Slingshot teams were all nearly destroyed the first day … ‘cept for Slingshot 8 commanded by Captain Falstaff and Slingshot 4 commanded by Major Fuqua. Ragland’s Black Force Knights lead Colbert Militia attacks across the Singing River and O’Neal Bridges at the same time. It went terrible for us at first.

“On the second day, those last two Slingshot teams provided cover for our combat engineers. Using fertilizer filled semi-trailer trucks, they blew the O’Neal and Singing River bridges to keep any more Colberts from comin’ over and enabled our militias to get the upper hand on those Colberts who were trapped north of the river. With no supplies or reinforcements, they didn’t last long. On day three, Wade offered to spare the captured Colberts if Little Charles would negotiate a new peace. A day later, the treaty was signed. President Smith let his prisoners return to Colbert, and he even tendered the dam's operational control back to President Ragland. We got to keep armed monitors in the dam crew, and they would make sure that Lauderdale received half the power from the generators. The Colberts had to transfer 10,000 gallons of bio-diesel fuel to Lauderdale and take down their four big 200-foot observation towers at Wheeler, Wilson, Sheffield, and Riverton. Also, both sides chose to cut off trade and travel between the two counties and limit communication. That was the Three Day War.” After a reflective pause, the boy added, “Oh, and Harry was on Captain Falstaff’s Slingshot 5 crew when they blew the Singing River Bridge. He was only 16 or 17 years old, right?”

The three older men stared at the boy for a long few seconds until Nim asked, “You listened to them teachers and preachers real good didn’t ya’, Boy?”

“I tried, sir.’

1911 began, “Yep, they filled his head with all the usual Lauderdale crap … the half-truths and lies. Well, Robby, where did those doctors with the miraculous medicine come from, and how did they get here?”

“I don’t know. God, uh ...”

“God!” 1911 cut him off and continued, “What have they taught you of the Old World? The world before The Mad Flu?”

Robby shrugged and answered, “It was a crazy time. There were billions of people, spread all over the world, in hundreds of countries. They had big wars, little wars, lots of different churches, lots of electricity and gas, H-bombs. They traveled all over the earth in airplanes, ships, cars, and trucks. People would sit around for hours and watch movies, videos, play electric games, talk on wireless phones, and eat any kind of food they wanted. Food was everywhere, and it was cheap, but the weird thing was that lots of people in the Old World were starving and poor.”

“That’s good, Robby. You’ve done some readin’ on your own, haven’t ya’?”

“Yes, sir. I did, Sergeant Johns. Captain Jack had a library, and he would let me read anything I wanted. He had an old computer too… until it finally conked out. He showed me how to use it to search for information stored on his discs and thumb drives. He also had a big collection of CDs, DVDs, and VHS tapes. The VHS movies usually broke in his old VCR… they were brittle but not the discs. The Captain had squirreled away a bunch of different kinds of disc players, speakers, telephones, radios, and the like. He loved all that stuff.”

“Well, Robby, let me tell ya’ some other things… some truths that don’t get aired. Them preachers would like ya’ to believe that divine intervention saved these two pissant counties here on the Tennessee River. That’s a load of crap.

“This Mad Flu got started in the Old World, and it spread really fast. Wade told us once that it was what they called a weapons-grade virus. This bunch of crazy-ass terrorists from overseas used some worldwide gathering to infect people from all over the world. They didn’t show symptoms for several days, so nobody knew they were carrying it until they got back to their home countries. One of the most advanced places for fighting disease in the Old World was in Atlanta, Georgia,… the Centers for Disease Control. You know where Atlanta, Georgia is, don’t ya’, boy?”

“Yes, sir. It’s southeast of here.”

“That’s right, son. The CDC actually found a vaccine, but things were going to hell lightnin’ fast in Atlanta; they had to load the vaccine, equipment, supplies, and personnel on a plane and head for Cheyenne Mountain.”

“The big fort the United States built in a cave, right?”

“That’s right, Robby!”

The three men shared grins at the knowledge the unschooled orphan had accumulated on his own.

“The plane, a C-130, took some small arms fire on its takeoff from Atlanta. They developed an engine fire and started searchin’ for a place to land. They ended up puttin’ ‘er down hard over at the airport in Muscle Shoals. Henry Smith and Big Charles Ragland had already become dictators of their counties, and word of the landing got to them quickly. The military head guy on the C-130 got killed when the plane crash-landed. The main CDC doctor on the plane was named Dr. David Patel, and he was impressed by the amount of control Smith and Ragland were managing to maintain considerin’ the way the rest of the world was falling apart, so he told them all about their flight.

“Dr. Patel lost his key scientists in the crash and some equipment. They could not produce any more of the vaccine. However, they did salvage a bunch of the vaccine that had already been produced. Smith and Ragland would not let Patel contact anybody at Cheyenne Mountain or any other Old World government officials. Their only priority was to save as many local people as possible. Dr. Patel didn’t put up much of an argument. The U. S. government had pretty much fallen apart anyway. Robby, it must have been unreal how fast that flu spread and what it did to those folks that caught it.”

“What did it do, Sergeant Johns? I mean, I have heard old folks talk about it, but you know…”

“Hmm, from what Wade Smith told me, you start running a high fever, runny nose, cough, and then a horrible headache starts. Within an hour or so of the headache, you start losin’ it. I mean... you go insane, and finally violent. This erratic behavior was the key to the Mad Flu’s rapid spread, I reckon, and the worst thing was that the virus was airborne… what the scientists called a spore-borne virus. Doc Harris told me once, ‘The virus quickly mutated and its incubation period shortened.’ The time between comin’ in contact with the virus and starting the fever got down to only a couple of hours. If an infected person didn’t kill himself or get put down, they would finally collapse after a day or so and die of internal organ failure.”

Robby asked, “Was that probably sick people in Atlanta that shot at the CDC plane?”

1911 answered, “I imagine so, but who knows?”

“What’d they do next, Sergeant Johns?”

“Well, the two Shoals leaders worked with Dr. Patel on a plan. They decided to vaccinate everybody in the counties that weren’t already showing signs of the Mad Flu. They were ruthless about it… cold. Hell, they had to be. The vaccine covered a few thousand people in both counties, and the rest were put down or isolated to die. They developed a border defense force that turned back or killed anyone from the outside world that would try to enter the area. The Colberts actually extended their territory to the east in what used to be Lawrence County, Alabama. Both sides thought it was best for the Colbert border to extend to a point just across the Tennessee River from the Lauderdale’s eastern line of defense at the mouth of the Elk River. The Colberts established theirs at the mouth of Spring Creek on the Lawrence County side of the river. This would be more defensible. Plus, the southern approach to the Wheeler Dam was in Lawrence County, and Spring Creek was a few miles east of it. The Raglands established an Eastern Defense Wall that meandered down to and along Ol’ Alabama 33, running down to Moulton. They decided to come straight across back to Mississippi in the west, putting up the Southern Defense Wall along what was then Alabama Highway 24. That actually clipped the top of Franklin County off, giving them Russellville and the Cedar Creek Reservoir. Ragland’s move was a logistics gamble, but it paid off. The fine farmland, timber, and fisheries he picked up made for a richer economic environment than Lauderdale. The remaining population of Courtland, Moulton, Town Creek, and Russellville were more than willing to knuckle under to the Raglands and get the vaccine.

“All the old local governments and laws were dissolved. President Smith called the shots in Lauderdale and President Ragland in Colbert. The two men would not tolerate any bickering between the north and south sides of the river. They appointed family or trusted friends to run things in the two counties.

“At first, a mixed bag of old TVA employees and locals ran the two dams. Over time, the Colberts, with their bigger pool of engineers and skilled laborers, took over the two dams' operational control. Hydroelectric power is vital to the survival of the ST. Of course, the spillways have to remain open almost all the time, as some of the upstream dams have failed. As you have seen in even your short life, Robby, the flooding gets out of hand a lot. Wheeler Dam’s traffic bridge was destroyed in The Long War, and it no longer produces power; they had to rob it of parts over the years to keep Wilson Dam producin’.

“As to your first question about the Humvees, Robby; Ragland and Smith stored all of the Army Reserve and Alabama National Guard equipment at the main National Guard armory in Florence. Also, the governor of Alabama deployed a National Guard mechanized infantry company to the Shoals just as things headed south. Those soldiers quickly surrendered their weapons, vehicles, and services to the locals after seeing the writing on the wall. They got vaccinated and assimilated into the community.

“Smith and Ragland created their own defense forces and chose to use some of the Humvees dispersed throughout the ST. The other Humvees, Bradleys, LMTVs, and MTVs were partially taken down for long-term storage and carefully housed at the Lauderdale Armory, which used to be the old National Guard Signal Battalion’s headquarters. We had a total of 60 Humvees, about half that number of trucks, and two Bradleys. A lot of the Humvees had the Signal Battalion’s metal boxes on the back. We slowly converted ‘em to the assault vehicle versions over the years. They even had two Blackhawk helicopters that landed here looking for a haven. The Blackhawks were stored at the Muscle Shoals airport, and Big Charles gave the flight crews VIP status.

“The Colberts used the Blackhawks against us in the first war, but they were shot down at the Battle of First Creek. Ol’ Colonel Flurry ordered the use of his four Redeye missiles. Thank goodness his boys figured ‘em out on their second tries and got hits on the Blackhawks. We fielded the two Bradleys in that same war, but they were taken out early on by the Blackhawks’ TOW missiles.

“The Colberts lost their much smaller supply of Humvees in the first war, and they just used cobbled-up armored pick-ups in the Three Day War and have ever since. After the first war, Wade Smith developed the Slingshot Teams as a kind of flexible defense force that could not only defend us from the Colberts but help out at the OW borders as well. He chose to have the heavily armed Humvees, each accompanied by one to three LMTVs or MTVs, active at any one time. Each was assigned its own combat team of elite troops. These were dispersed throughout Lauderdale County. The remaining Humvees and army trucks were held in reserve with their tires and canvas off, up on blocks, all greased down, and covered. Tires are the big thing, Robby. The Guard armory and the Army’s mechanized unit had a goodly supply of spares, and the Smiths stored them with great care, but after 70 years, even the sealed and temperature-controlled inventory has degraded. At least some dry rot has gotten to all of them. They pop way too often.”

Robby asked, “Why did he call ‘em Slingshots?”

1911 answered, “Cap’n Jack said the Smiths just came up with that one day. He would joke and say the Smiths would, ‘sling ‘em here and sling ‘em there’ as needed.”

Robbie chuckled.

1911 continued, “During The Peace, the Slingshot force intimidated the hell out of the Colberts, and most political, religious, and economic confrontations went our way without a shot being fired. But, as good as they were, they proved to be very vulnerable to espionage and sabotage … two skills that the Raglands were very good at. The Smiths did not realize how big a ‘fifth column’ the Raglands had until it was too late.”

Robby blurted a question, “Fifth column?”

Bardolph interjected, “Spies and saboteurs. You know ... they blended in with the Lauderdale citizens.”

Robby glanced at Bardolph and then nodded.

1911 continued, “Yep, they even blew up some of the stored reserve vehicles … a dozen Humvees and twenty trucks were lost altogether.”

Bardolph scoffed, “Vehicles? What about the lives?”

Robby mournfully said, “My folks were killed the first day in Florence.”

1911 responded, “That’s right, Robby. Cap’n Jack pulled you out of the basement of a burning house and dropped you off at Nell’s. We lost over a thousand people the first day and almost as many on the second. That changed quickly after the bridges were blown. They attacked with a force of close to three thousand. Our Low Church Militias finally got moving. Without reinforcements and supplies, the Colbert invaders were cut to pieces. Only a couple of hundred survived to surrender. Some criticized Wade for suing for peace so quickly, but dammit, the losses were so high and so quick.

“Anyway, Robby, after all the years, loss to combat, loss to attrition, and cannibalization, we have the eight teams’ vehicles and only one Humvee and one LMTV in storage. Even carefully preserved, the reserve vehicles have been sitting there aging for seven decades. It’s thin, son, real thin.”

Robby observed, “Slingshot 8 ain’t got any trucks or squads of shooters, does it?”

1911 answered, “Naw, son, just our sorry-asses.”

Bardolph and Nim chuckled and bumped knuckles.

The door facing the house opened. It was Harry. He entered with two large satchels and sat them down. “Hi, Therese!” He surprised her with a big hug.

“Uh … hi, Harry. I’m sorry about your dad and Captain Falstaff.”

“Thanks, darlin’. You’re a doll for doing this.”

“It’s what I get paid for, Mr. President.”

“Oh, I meant putting up with these shitheads for an hour.”

She laughed, but the remark called her attention to her watch.

Harry laughed, “Yeah, you gotta run.”

“I do.”

Harry looked at Robby, “Robby, run these bags out to the lady’s vehicle for her.”

“Yes, Sir!”

“Therese, take care, and we’ll see ya in a few.”

Harry turned and exited.

Therese turned and chimed, “Well, gentlemen, I’ll see ya in a few … and, oh, dinner was great.”

She exited and raced to her Humvee. Robby was closing the door after loading the heavy bags.

Therese stepped up and clasped his face in her hands. She leaned in and kissed his cheek. “You are a fine young man, Robby. A real sweetie! Don’t let those guys corrupt you.”

Stunned, the boy stammered, "I won’t.”

She felt like the drive back took less time than the one going over in spite of the darkness.


	10. Killing Time

As usual, the ancient radios weren’t working. Slingshot 8 had to approach the old shopping center with caution. Bardolph blinked the flashlight code in the direction of the vehicles parked in a dark corner of the decaying shopping center’s parking lot. The proper response flashed back at them. Harry never doubted Carol Aird, and her women would be there ahead of him. They always were. As he stepped out of Slingshot 8, Carol and Therese greeted him.

“Hi, Harry.” Referring to the early-afternoon funeral of the late Captain Jack Falstaff, Carol asked, “How did Jack’s funeral go?”

“Hi, ladies. Oh, it went as well as could be expected, Carol. Not many showed, but Jack would have laughed that off.”

“Yes, he would’ve. What a bunch of pricks. ”

“Exactly.”

Carol gave Harry a quick hug and softly said, “And now we have another one tomorrow … I’ll miss Wade, Harry ... I’m so sorry.”

“Harry managed only a nod.”

Carol shifted to the business at hand, “Well, your cousins are still at Biscuit’s. I’ve got my Alpha squad watching them. Whatcha think, Boss?”

“Let’s take ‘em down, Carol.”

The soldiers expected this, but hearing it so succinctly caused them to stiffen.

“Carol, you handle the assault as you see fit. I don’t want any of your team hurt unnecessarily, so tell your girls not to worry about bystanders or any surrender offers. Just go in hard and shoot for center of mass. If y’all don’t have to kill any kids or wives, then don’t, but don’t jeopardize yourselves either. Remember, all three of those SOBs have been on the teams at one time or the other. They will know quickly that they are being hit and react accordingly. How much time do you need to brief your team and get into position?”

Carol deferred to Therese with a glance.

Without hesitation, Therese checked her watch and replied, “It’s 19:35. We’ll go in at 20:00.”

“That’s not much time, Therese,” cautioned Harry.

“We don’t need much. We already have an assault plan. All we need to do is get over there, move into our final assault positions, and go. Besides, I’m afraid of them jackrabbiting on us.”

“Good enough, where can we position ourselves so as not to be in your way, Carol?”

Carol spoke, “Therese, head on girl. I got this.”

“Yes, Ma’am!” said Therese, and she departed with the four Bravo team personnel.

Carol spoke, “Harry, it’s not exactly as close as you would prefer, but we will have an unobstructed view from a crest on a street one block over. Just follow Abby and me.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” smiled Harry.

Abby and Mort parked the Humvees in the street below the crest of a hill two blocks over from Biscuit’s residence. Carol did not want to alert the plotters. Harry, 1911, and Carol donned their night vision gear. Abby and Robby stayed with the vehicles while the others stealthily made their way to the aforementioned observation point. It was 17:55 by the time they settled in.

Carol could make out Schmitt’s team positioned around Biscuit’s split-level. The seasoned commander easily recognized Schmitt and Therese hanging back a few yards from the others. She could also tell which ghostly figure would actually go in with the shooters; Corporal Blind was making her final hand signals. Bardolph was keeping an eye on his watch for them, and as he whispered “twenty-hundred,” the lights in the house went out.

“She’s cut their power,” whispered Carol.

A series of explosions came from inside the house as the grenade launchers fired. The crackle of suppressed machine gunfire quickly followed. A couple of retaliatory unsuppressed shots indicated that a cousin was fighting back. After a final explosion, there was silence.

A moment later, Therese shouted, “Major, c’mon in.”

Carol, Harry, and his crew sprinted down to the house.

Abby and Robby heard the shout and fired up their respective Humvees to cautiously trail their commanders.

Therese met Carol and Harry just outside the house and reported, “We got ‘em, and there weren’t any women or kids in the house.”

“What about your people, Therese?”

“Not a scratch.”

“That’s great! Well done! Say, they’re all dead?”

“Yes, we count three.”

Elated, Harry and Carol bear-hugged only to be interrupted by Schmitt’s voice from inside the house, “Dammit to hell!” Schmitt stepped out just as the power was restored, and the house lights came back on. She blinked and shook her head as her pupils adjusted.

Carol demanded, “What’s wrong, Sergeant?”

With anger in her eyes, Schmitt answered, “Snope and Campbell are in there, but the third guy is not Biscuit Gray.”

“What?” Harry exclaimed. “Who is it?”

“I don’t recognize him, but one of my gals says it’s a guy named Bart Dobbs from West Lauderdale.”

Harry’s heart sank. He knew Dobbs back from early hunting trips with his cousins. Dobbs was the same height and build as Biscuit. Harry darted into the house and had Judy Kelley show him the bodies.

Harry toed the body in question’s face toward him then growled, “That’s Bart alright.”

Carol and Therese caught up with him, and Carol hollered, “Have y’all searched the entire house and grounds?”

Corporal Blind answered, “The house, yes, Ma’am, and the Bravo shooters are working the perimeter.”

As they anxiously awaited reports from the search of the grounds, Carol reluctantly surmised, “Harry, they must have pulled a switch on us somewhere, and I had my best surveillance people on them.”

Harry stared at the bodies for a few seconds, sighed, and then calmly said, “Don’t agonize over it, Carol. They are, well, were, in some cases, a slippery bunch, and Biscuit Gray is the slipperiest. But we gotta find him fast… real fast.”

Harry ordered Carol to conduct an expanded search for Biscuit.

All Carol had to do is glance and nod to Therese. Therese was firing commands in seconds, dividing her shooters and dispersing them.

Harry and Carol gathered his crew to devise a call plan; their goal was to alert everyone who might need to know about Biscuit's escape. Robby jotted down call lists for each person as they brainstormed. Harry was going to work his list from Biscuit’s phone, but he quickly opted to leave the site of such carnage and asked 1911 to swap with him. Traitors or not, two of the dead were his cousins, and they had been close in their youth.

As the others left the bloody dwelling, the thick-skinned old warrior never blinked an eye. He plopped down at Biscuit’s kitchen table and picked up the phone receiver. Somewhat selfishly, he first had the operator, Sarah Haney, ring his Nell. As the phone rang, he heard Carol, Harry, Nim, Bardolph, and Robby outside deciding who would call from where and how they would all get there. 1911 chuckled at their disarray then muttered, “This ain’t the first dance for this old bunny _._ ”

The phone rang a long time; 1911 checked his watch to find it was five after nine, still the shank of the evening. Finally, Cold Zee answered, and 1911 impatiently barked, “Zee, where’s Nell?”

“She’s upstairs.”

1911 could tell from her voice that she was distraught. “What’s wrong, Zee? Y’all got trouble there?”

He heard the phone shuffling and Cold Zee’s voice speaking away from the receiver, “Nell, it’s 1911.”

Next, he heard Nell’s voice, “Give me that. Now you go sit down, Zee. Try to calm down! Mort, you need to get over here.”

Not questioning the urgency, 1911 replied, “Well, I’m supposed to be looking for Biscuit Gray, but I’ll get the 8 and head over.”

Nell exclaimed, “Biscuit Gray is here, Honey! He just murdered one of my girls!” There was a pause as she choked back the sobs, “And, Mort, it was Harry’s Ginger.

1911 was crushed by emotion, “What the hell? Naw! Aw, naw! It’ll kill him.”

“Mort, it’s little solace, but she blew Biscuit’s fuckin’ head off before she died.”

“Shit, Nell, I don’t know how to tell him.”

With a sudden calm firmness, Nell ordered, “Mort, just hang up and get over here!”1911 heard a click on the other end. He slammed the receiver down and immediately hollered, “Harry, don’t leave! I found Biscuit!”

He received no response then he heard the engines of the two remaining Humvees start. “Goddamnit!”

From their respective front passenger seats, Harry and Carol saw 1911 burst from the house, waving both his arms. The vehicles both halted with jolts, and Harry jumped out of the passenger side, shouting, “What’s up, Mort?”

“Get back in, Harry! I found Biscuit! He’s dead … over at Nell’s. I’ll tell more on the way!”

Shocked, Harry turned to Carol and ordered, “Carol, reel your team in, and when you’re a hundred percent accounted for, beat it over to Miss Nell’s Place.”

Carol watched the 8 roar away. Then she turned to Abby, who was standing by the open driver's door of their vehicle. Abby’s M4 would be much louder than Carol’s nine, so Carol commanded, “Do it, Abby.”

Abby pointed her M4 into the starry sky and fired the recall signal, three paused shots.


	11. Quarter to Midnight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [](https://imgur.com/ZkZTYN5)  
> 

Therese finished her second and final round of the camp at a quarter to midnight. The camp was deathly quiet. This was quite the contrast from a couple of hours earlier when Squad Alpha was hailed the conquering heroes. Theirs was the last area of her round. Therese was proud of them. On her first round, her people had been excitedly cleaning their weapons and trading jibes with their sisters from the other squads. Now the Team was sound asleep. She noted that Deb and Judy had fallen asleep cuddling on Deb’s cot. Therese let the infraction slide, thinking, _Whatever, sleep well you two._

The barn doors were slightly ajar, probably a thoughtful gesture of Abby’s. Therese eased her head in to find all of her noncoms fast asleep. She hesitated, then stepped back. As exhausted as she was, Therese couldn’t turn it off. She patted her fatigue’s thigh pocket and felt what she was seeking. One cigarette remained in its little brown paper pouch. Not much of a smoker, Therese loved one every other day or so. She slipped the smoke from its paper then drew it under her nose. Intoxicated by the aroma, she tossed the paper in a nearby trashcan and made her way to the smoking area.

As Therese approached the roped-off space on the far side of the mess tent, she recognized the unmistakable silhouette of her commander. _Fucking alright!_ Facing away, Carol was unaware of Therese’s approach. A glowing, moonlit cloud of smoke formed above Carol then slowly dissipated into the cold night air.

Therese’s scan found no sentry nearby. Thus emboldened, she asked, “Hey, gorgeous, got a light?”

Surprisingly un-shocked, Carol turned with a leg-spreading smile. “Sure, Angel … here ya go.” Carol extended her hand.

Therese took the smoke then fired up her own. She handed Carol’s back. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” After a pause, Carol asked, “They all tucked in?”

“Oh, yeah … sleeping like babies.”

They had narrowed their separation to a couple of feet. Now Therese saw the amorous smile belied by puffy eyes. Carol caught Therese’s change of expression, and she knew her “Angel” knew.

“Oh, Carol, you can’t keep blaming yourself. The assault on Biscuit’s house was textbook. As for the surveillance, our girls couldn’t stay with those fuckers every second. Shit, they were in and out of shops, a diner, and even a church. The swap could have happened anywhere, and the closest a tail ever got to them was around 50 yards.”

“But you didn’t see him holding her … just cross-legged on that beautiful girl’s bedroom floor … clutching her head and shoulders in his lap. His khakis were blood-soaked, Therese.” And with that, Carol lost it. She collapsed into Therese’s arms, painfully sobbing. The sobs were barely audible, but Therese could feel the pain in them.

When Therese felt her lover calmed, she asked, “So, this Ginger was one of Nell’s girls?”

“Yes, it seems so, but she literally had one client.”

“Harry?”

“Yes.”

“I guess Biscuit figured he’d slip into her room and banking that Harry would visit, assassinate him and kill anyone else who might get in the way.”

“Probably, and then I imagine Ginger discovered his presence, and a struggle ensued. Her throat was cut wide open, and Biscuit's face was blown into the back of his skull.”

“Well, when we were hanging around outside, one of the Slingshot 8 guys said Nell and 1911 really doted on the girl. It seems 1911 had recently given her a sawed-off .410 shotgun for just such an occasion.”

“That was likely true; I saw a little, chopped scattergun on the floor. It wasn’t much bigger than a handgun.”

“You shouldn’t even have gone in there, Carol.”

“I had to, darlin’ … I just had to.”

The errant sentry sheepishly stepped into view. Therese quickly put her arm around Carol in a sisterly manner and started walking them directly towards Carol’s tent. Therese could only recall the girl’s tag, “Hey, Bobcat. Our Major is having a moment; I’m gonna walk her back to her tent and sit with her until she falls asleep, okay?”

“Oh, sure thing, Top … is there anything I can do?”

“One thing … mums the word!”

“Yes, Sergeant.”

“I mean it, Private. If I hear about this through the gossip mill, you’ll be digging slit trenches for the duration of this campaign.”

“Understood, Top.”

“Great, now pull open that door for us; she’s getting a chill.”

“Yes, Sergeant.”

Therese sat Carol down on her bed then returned to the tent’s entrance. She addressed the sentry, “Bobcat, the perimeters are well guarded, and I’ve got the Major’s M4 right here. I got her covered. She may take a while to fall asleep, so I want you to get out of this cold night air and have a seat in the mess tent. When’s your duty end?”

“Zero one hundred, Top.”

Well then, you can put your feet up and even nod off if you want; I’ll come to wake you when she’s resting easy.”

Bobcat was thrilled, “Are you sure, Top?”

“Affirmative. It’s on my orders.”

The shooter scurried to the mess tent.

Therese secured the tent’s door flap. She returned to Carol and pulled her boots off. Kneeling on the floor, Therese massaged Carol’s feet.

“Therese, I heard this pretty, dark-haired little thing at Nell’s say that Ginger was only nineteen.”

Therese thought, _I guess that would be Cold Zee._ Therese verbally responded, “Same as a third of our own, huh, Carol?”

“Therese, I don’t know if I’m up for this… seeing all these young women torn apart.”

“Well, the way I see it, Carol, is you’ve got to be up for it. We need your ass … and might I add, what a splendid one it is.”

“Come here, sweetheart.”

Therese released Carol’s foot and eased up over her legs to press her lips on Carol’s. Their tongues danced, and Therese’s hands found Carol’s breasts. Carol warmed and tilted to her side, pulling Therese up and on top of her as Carol swung up her legs and rolled flat on her back. Therese eagerly followed, burying her face into Carol’s neck, kissing it, and gently biting. Carol squirmed beneath Therese, driving them both mad.

Therese broke, then scooted up on her knees and went to work on Carol’s shirt buttons.

“Angel, you know … we can’t … its too—”

Therese pressed her pointer finger on Carol’s lips to hush her, then firmly corrected, “Yes, we can.”

Therese finished the buttons, then rose straight up on her knees, unclasped her pistol belt, and then let it slip to the floor. She scolded, “Major, you know better than to leave this tent without your sidearm. I’m gonna have to write you up.”

Surrendering, Carol played along, “Oh, please don’t write me up, Top.”

Therese was feverishly undoing her own shirt buttons but proclaimed, “Then you’re gonna have to do something for me.”

“What’s that, Sergeant?”

Therese hopped off the bed and darted to Carol’s wood-burning heater. She slipped two more pieces of oak into the stove and slapped the cover closed. Upon her return to Carol, Therese got back into character as she pulled off her own shirt, thermal undergarment, and bra, “What you have to do for me, Major, is … get naked.” Therese bent over and went to work on her own bootlaces.

The view of Therese’s striking back enthralled Carol. She had her outer and undershirts off quickly, then popped off the ugly Spared Territory bra. She held the bra up, pinching it between finger and thumb for Therese to see.

Therese glanced up from her boots and had to stifle a laugh at the site of the homely ST bra.

Both women raced to get their pants off. The panties were last.

The tiny field bed would have to do.

Neither felt like they would have to start from scratch again as the overdue sight of each other in the flesh had them cooking.

Therese melted back down on top of Carol. The skin against skin contact made them both moan; they giggled at the harmony.

Therese’s goal was to knock the brothel’s dreadful image out of Carol’s mind, so she aggressively began nippling and fingering Carol. After Carol climaxed, Therese flipped around, so they could orally pleasure each other. That worked out very well for both of them.

Somewhere down the line, Therese had the discipline to check her watch. It was 00:46. She showed the watch face to Carol, and they both sighed.

Therese reluctantly left the bed and began to dress. Carol put on panties and thermals and donned her well-beloved slippers.

Therese was all dressed, including pistol belt, at 00:55. Before she departed, they kissed in a passionate embrace for a long moment.

Therese hurried to the mess tent and woke the groggy Bobcat at 00:59, “Heads up, Private, Major Aird is fine, and I see your relief coming up the path.”

“Oh, yes, Top … I’m up.”

Therese chuckled, “Good. I’ll see ya in the morning. Sleep well, Private.”


	12. Major Hottie

“Team, ten hut!” barked Therese Belivet.

The fifty-six women of Slingshot 2 snapped to attention and stood strong.

Major Carol Aird entered their view and effortlessly climbed atop the cab of Alpha’s Light Medium Tactical Vehicle.

Looking out on her command, she beamed, “At ease, Team 2.”

They relaxed, but none shifted their eyes from their commander, save Therese, who glanced at her watch, _Zero seven hundred … perfect, Gorgeous._

The early morning’s fog was thinning. Still low in the east, the sun fired diffused rays through the neighboring stand of mixed hardwoods. The colors had turned, but few leaves had fallen. The assemblage was bathed in a divine light.

Carol began, “I hope you slept well, my loves. It’s D-day!”

“SLINGSHOT 2!”

“You’re fucking right ‘Slingshot 2’ because Slingshot 2 has worked harder, learned more, ran farther, and shot straighter than any other team in preparation for this day. Words can’t express how proud I am of every one of you, but I still say … WOMEN, I’m proud of you.

“We’re proud of you, too, Major.”

“Fuckin’ A!”

“We’re ready!”

“We love you, Major Hottie!”

Carol let the laughter die down, then continued, “Now, to the business at hand, Corporal Gerhard will be driving me to President Smith’s funeral at the Florence High Church. The church service is at thirteen hundred." Without hesitation, she glanced at Abby and said, "We’ll leave at noon, Abby dabby do.”

More laughter ensued.

Carol smirked, “I couldn’t resist.”

Abby grinned, “I wish.”

“OHHHH!”

Carol brought them back, “A truck from 1 will be here at eleven hundred; pack up the personal items you are not taking, make sure your name and team number are printed clearly on that duffel, then get it on that truck ASAP. We will not be returning to this marshaling camp.”

“Hallelujah!”

"Moo!"

Carol chuckled then resumed, “Get you combat gear ready. Check it twice, and then check it twice more. If your shit breaks in battle, it breaks, but don’t let the reason be your own lack of attention to detail.”

Carol’s eyes moistened a bit in anticipation of her next remark. “More than a few of us will not make it back. Yes, your friend might die at your side. You need to stay calm, get mean, and bring holy hell down on our enemy. This is for keeps, people … the real deal.

“As for ammunition? What we have is what we have. The Smiths have emptied the arsenal’s supply of .50 cal, 7.62, 5.56, 9mm, and .45 ACP. When we leave today, our supply of ammunition will all be in the mags on your person or stowed in our vehicles. Make them count … every round. There ain’t gonna be no sprayin’ and prayin’. Leave those fire selectors on semi unless you absolutely have to go full auto. On that point, SCROUNGE! Every serviceable Old World weapon and its ammo you can gather fills a last-ditch basket for the team.

“Do not discount your enemy. A Black Force Knight is a fearsome predator. You will seldom get more than one chance to take him or her down; don’t miss … they won’t. You may think the weapons of our own militia and the Colbert’s are primitive … laughably so. That is wrong-headed, people. These folks are disciplined, well-drilled, and they are marksmen; one bullet will kill you just as dead as two or three.

“I will not be attending Wade Smith’s graveside ceremony… none of the Slingshot commanders will be at the graveside. We will be joining our teams at their final assembly points; ours is on Royal Avenue, near the old stadium. I look forward to that moment.

“Let’s get busy. Let’s get ready.

“May your God be with you.”

Carol nodded to Therese.

“Team, ten hut!”

Carol came down from her perch and strode away.

“Dismissed!”

Midmorning, Abby brought Carol a coffee.

“Thank you, darling.”

“You’re welcome. That’s the last of Pham’s Colbert joe.”

Carol looked up from her paperwork, smiled, and nodded. “Well, maybe we'll capture some more in the coming days.”

“Maybe ... hey, I woke up last night when Therese came to bed. Shit, it was late, after one.”

Carol shot Abby a questioning glance, paused, then feigned to read.

“I wonder what she was working on that late. Were you up at that time … did you see her?”

Carol stared at Abby; she really didn’t know what to say. Carol could never lie to her best friend and first true love.

“She’s young.”

Carol’s lip twisted a bit.

“Tell me you know what you’re doing.”

Carol grasped her coffee mug and stared into it as if it was a crystal ball. After a time, she dreamily said, “I don’t,” then shifted her eyes back to Abby’s, and while gently shaking her head, Carol confessed, “I never did.”


	13. Goodbyes

As Nell’s clock chimed the noon hour, 1911 asked, “Are you sure you don’t want to go to Wade’s funeral, Nell?”

“Yes, Mort. I would love to stand at your side and pay my respects, but I just can’t handle the looks from all those hoity-toity bitches.”

1911 opted not to press his love on the issue any further. “Well, I won’t be able to come back by here, sweetie. Harry is riding to the funeral with his sister and uncles. Nim, Thomas, and Robby have the 8 all packed, so when the one o’clock funeral is over, we will be heading out.”

“So, we are going to war again! Oh, what the hell! We’ll probably all be dead in a week!”

“Now, Nell quit talkin’ like that. We got a good plan of attack. We’ll kick their ass this time ... they’ll be beggin’ for a treaty before the week is out.”

“Uh-huh, well listen here, Ol’ Man, just you be careful and make sure you come back in one piece.”

“Yes, ma’am. I have every intention of doin’ just that!”

They kissed and hugged for a moment, and then the sound of Slingshot 8’s diesel engine cranking caused them to break the embrace.

Nell softly said, “Mort, thank you again for all the help with Ginger this morning. I still can’t believe that Harry, you, and all those others insisted on hand digging her grave. Do you like the spot... out by the pond?”

“I love it. That girl loved to sit out there by that pond. She would read and listen to her music for hours. An’ we wouldn’t have dreamed of messing up the place with some noisy backhoe. Kinda’ amazin’ how fast a dozen strong men got it done, huh?”

“Yes, it was, Mort, and Harry never took a break, did he?”

“Nope.”

“Lawz, yes! He loved that girl.”

“Well, Nell Honey, I gotta go.”

“I know you do.”

“I love you, Mrs. Johns.”

“I love you, Mr. Johns.”

A last kiss and 1911 turned to exit the cavernous bar. Nell held his hand tightly and did not release it until they reached the bottom of the front steps.

As he climbed in the 8, Nell hollered, “1911, make those rascals behave!”

He simply laughed out loud and shrugged helplessly.

The 8 quickly departed. Just as they turned on the main road and began to accelerate, Nim hit the horn.

Nell stood for a long minute or two after they were out of sight. She was trying to be optimistic but found it impossible. This was all just a bad start to a bad time. Mercifully, Cold Zee joined Nell, hooked her arm inside her madam’s, and slowly walked her back into Nell's Place.

At sixteen hundred, Carol, Therese, and Abby heard the echoing crack of high-velocity artillery. Parked in the shadow of Florence's dilapidated football stadium, they looked toward East Florence.

Carol said, “That would be Scooter’s pair of anti-tank guns … they are on the top floor of the old hospital.”

Therese and Abby looked at one another, and despite having often heard it, laughed at the Lauderdale artillery commander’s nickname. Captain Shelton did not look like a “Scooter” with his graying beard and long heavy arms and legs.

Carol glared at them while murmuring a line from one of her favorite Old World movies, “Alabama smart alecks.”

Abby shifted to a façade of composure by commenting, “Well, at least that burned-out shell of a building is still good for something.” Unfortunately, Abby glanced at a wide-eyed, raised eye-browed Therese, and both started snickering again.

They stood in front of Carol’s Humvee at the head of their column. Half-smoked cigarettes dangled from their lips or fingers. The artillery fire from the hospital seemed to have stopped. Carol said, “Damn, I forgot to count the shots.”

Therese spoke, “Sixteen.”

“Carol glanced at her and winked, “Good girl ... that's every round he had for the 57s.”

A couple of minutes later, the deeper roar of heavier guns thundered from the southwest. Carol blurted, “And, that’s his 4.2-inch Parrot rifles from downtown … black powder.” Their volleys would last appreciably longer. “Therese, have them mount up and start their engines.

Therese stepped to the center of the road and shouted back to the column, “Team 2, mount up and fire ‘em up!”

Clapping and hurrahs were heard.

Abby started their vehicle. Carol and Therese walked several yards ahead of their column, stopped, and waited. The mighty reports of the long-range artillery battery and the accompanying distant rumble of its exploding shells lasted for a quarter-hour. Coming from East Florence, Carol recognized her father’s Humvee. It slowed to a stop, and Colonel Phil Goins stepped out to greet his daughter.

Carol stepped to meet him, and they hugged. Phil uttered, “Sweetie, I’m leaving this with Harry and y’all. God, I wish I were going over there.”

“I know, Daddy, but you’ve got a job to do here … your 1, 3, 4, and 6 have to protect Lauderdale. We can strike with confidence knowing you're guarding our homes and families. Were you with Harry up there?”

"I was. I watched to see how it went with Scooter's rebuilt 57s. It worked, Carol; our gunners busted those Colbert bunkers wide open."

"Oh, that's good to know. Hey, Daddy, I love you. Give Momma and Rindy a hug and kiss for me."

He was too choked up to speak. Carol kissed his cheek, and after another short embrace, they parted to return to their vehicles. Still walking back, Carol waved at him as he passed by. Her heart soared as the old warrior stood up through his Humvee's ring mount and vigorously waved and shouted to her team. “Give ‘em hell, girls! Make us proud!”

Carol heard a muffled explosion above and behind her. She knew what it was without looking.

Therese confirmed, “It’s the green flare, Carol.”

Carol took the front seat and Therese the back.

Carol commanded, “Let’s roll, Abby.”

They raced south on Royal Avenue, negotiated the roundabout in old East Florence, then exited on Huntsville Road heading east. In a quarter-mile, they slipped on to Hilton Drive and the approach to the Singing River Bridge. Passing the gutted Old World hospital, Therese saw the gunners on the top floor cheering them on.

Carol and Therese glanced back to catch Team 5 pulling in behind them from the west, and a mile back on Hilton, they could see Team 7 following. Battalions of Militiamen took knees along both sides of the road as far back as the eye could see.

They crested the approach. The mile-long bridge and the Tennessee River appeared before them. They took the southbound lane. Abby accelerated. “Harry’s Bridge” appeared in the distance. The marvel of engineering had been transported, placed, and reinforced just minutes before. Abby slowed as they neared it. Major Fuqua’s Team 4 personnel were dispersed about the gap providing security and direction for the drivers. All they could do was trust the little bridge would hold. It did. Abby howled, “Yahoo!”

Therese pointed out the smoldering south end of the bridge. Carol looked through her field glasses then declared, “Both of the Colbert machine gun bunkers are totally destroyed, and I can see cavalry and engineers down on the roadway. Fuqua's big Army wrecker had cleared one of the shattered Jersey barriers from the roadway and opened a gap just wide enough for the Humvees, LMTVs, and MTVs to pass through.

Now off the bridge and just past the barriers, a cavalryman signaled for Abby to stop. Carol hopped out and walked up to the dashing horse soldier. She congratulated, “Well done, Jesus!”

Complete with a large feathered hat, black duster, tall black boots, and a bride plaid shirt, Captain Jesus Juarez replied, “Thank you, Major, it’s good to see you. My platoon has reconnoitered the area of our planned bridgehead. Squad 1 is working the west, 2 the south, and 3 the east. Carol, my folks have reported no enemy personnel other than these that were manning the bunker” He gestured to one of the smoking bunkers on the hill beside him and a dead Colbert laying to the side of the road. We’ve caught ‘em with their pants down, Major.”

Therese had joined them.

Jesus nodded to her, “Hey, Top.”

She replied, “Hi, Captain,” then she pointed back to the west edge of the road and asked, “Sir, you’ve lost a man … and a horse?”

“Yes … horrible … but to be honest, I expected worse.”

Carol patted the neck of his fidgeting mount to calm it, then she said, “I’m sorry, Jesus. What was the trooper’s name?”

“Thanks, Carol … uh, that was Private John Bates.” The horse stood still, and the Captain noted, “Chain Lightning likes you.”

“She patted the animal once more and cooed, “Yeah, well, he’s a good boy.”

Therese asked, “John Bates from Waterloo?”

“That’s right, Therese. He was one of my best. That big Colbert over there just wouldn’t quit.”

Therese and Carol glanced again at the enemy’s body.

Carol sighed, “We knew there would be losses … but, you’re right, Captain, their lack of forces up here is a stroke of luck.”

One of Jesus’s troopers galloped down the hill and stopped a few yards away, she reported, “Captain, still no sign of the enemy other than that Knight vehicle over the crest of the road, and as reported earlier, they beat it back towards Muscle Shoals.”

“That’s good, Naddy … real good. Make the rounds for me and tell the squad leaders to disperse around the perimeter, dismount, and take defensive positions with their long arms.”

“Yes, Sir,” Private Naddy Smith replied. As she turned her mount, she winked at Therese, teasing, “Hidey, Top-rese!”

“Hey, Naddy. Word do get around.”

“You betcha!”

Carol noted the flirt, but only for a second, “So, Jesus, we’re good to go?

“Yes, Ma’am! Y’all can take your assigned defensive positions and dig in as per the original plan.”

“Thanks, Captain. Let’s roll, ‘Top-rese.’”

Therese loved it; She’s _jealous!_


	14. Revelations

Harry called his bridgehead’s Slingshot and Lauderdale Militia commanders for a meeting at 21:00. Carol attended and felt secure that her command was in good hands with Therese. Harry started by standing to the side of a large diagram of the bridgehead. He used a pointer and methodically went around the tent, asking each commander how they and their commands were doing, exactly where they were, and what, if any, enemy contact they had incurred.

Surprising to the commanders, they had not seen a sign of the enemy as of yet. Under the comforting presence and firepower of Slingshot Teams 2, 5, and 7, the High and Low Church Militias were feverishly building earthworks with the help of two backhoes manned by Harry’s engineers. A bulldozer would have been great, but Harry’s bridge could not handle the weight of such a machine. Harry had ordered Jesus to recall all of his reconnoitering cavalrymen. He did not want them stumbling into an ambush in the dark. They, too, now comfortably rested in the confines of Harry’s growing fortress. Major Fuqua’s Slingshot 4 team was tasked with guarding the Singing River Bridge, Harry’s lifeline to Lauderdale.

Harry must have felt the time was right. Carol noticed a change in his facial expression. She thought it somewhat like a child preparing to make a long-held confession. Her motherly instincts were correct.

Harry leaned the pointer against the diagram and stepped to the center of the group. President Henry Wade Smith V was twenty-six years old, six feet tall, had short light-brown hair, and weighed about 190 pounds; it was mostly muscle. He had killed his first deer at age seven and his first man at age fourteen. As the leader of the elite Slingshot Defense Force, he stayed in immaculate physical condition. He was skilled in the martial arts, close-quarters battle (CQB), demolition, munitions, military tactics, and first aid. There was no better marksman in the Spared Territory, no matter the weapon: long-range rifle, assault rifle, sub-machine gun, shotgun, revolver, pistol, bow, crossbow, or muzzleloader. From his earliest memories, his parents had engaged tutors of writing, literature, history, math, chemistry, biology, physics, and agriculture to ensure he was a scholar as well. He could easily converse with and bond to any Lauderdale citizen, from a trapper at Panther Creek, through the mill workers of East Florence, up to the landed gentry of the big farms. He had one sibling, his little sister, Philippa. Both parents were dead, and he was unmarried, a bachelor by choice. The finest ladies of Lauderdale had sought him out and failed. He enjoyed the company of whores, albeit the finest. His closest friends and family knew he had one true love, and he had not spoken to her in over a decade. And now, by the Spared Territories’ Laws of Ascendancy, he was the absolute ruler of the 700 square miles and twelve thousand occupants of his principality, Lauderdale.

He began, “For several years, some of you have speculated and assumed that I have had a mole operating in the Ragland’s upper tiers. Well, your assumption is correct. This stays with those in this tent. I cannot yet name this operative, but rest assure, this individual deserves our highest honors.

“Do you want to know why we have seen so little Colbert resistance? Here is why… for the past week, the Colberts have been summoning almost their entire military force to the Black Force Training Center near Nitrate City. They were going to invade Lauderdale tomorrow. They have two-dozen barges concealed in sloughs all along the southern side of the Wilson Lake. They were going to man—“ he glanced at Carol and Clara “—and woman these vessels with their very best, cross the lake, and overwhelm our smallish force at the northern end of Wilson Dam. Once secured, they could cross the balance of their forces using the Dam’s roadway… I’m sure everyone in this room would have been killed, wounded, or captured by tomorrow night. ”

The commanders exchanged apprehensive glances.”

Carol spoke, “Ours is a preemptive strike?“

Harry nodded.

“I think Colbert Constable Danny Ragland will move on us in the morning. His Colbert military assemblage is massive … thousands of militiamen and scary, black-uniformed Knights. They can push us right off into the river by mid-morning.”

Some of the more impatient raised fingers, yearning to react to Harry’s revelation. He palmed them down.

“The thing is, at the crack of dawn, our own Geek Work’s genius-in-residence, one Crazy Ned Flanagan, is going to fly his rocket-propelled aircraft from Cox Creek Parkway to Nitrate City and bomb the shit out of them as they assemble en masse on their parade ground. He will kill and maim many, and in turn, throw Danny Ragland’s command into disarray.”

Harry’s cousin Captain Chester Hayes of Slingshot 7 blurted, “But what if it doesn’t work, Harry?”

“It will, Cuz.”

Carol saw how resolute her young president was, and she laughed, “It’s got to.”

Harry grinned at Carol, “There ya go, Carol. See, y’all? Major Aird’s got it.”

Several, including Clara Smith, joined in the laughter, shaking their heads.

Harry waited only seconds to move along. “Folks, that is miracle number one, now for deception number two. Depending on how our friend Danny reacts, sometime tomorrow, the East Lauderdale Low Church Battalion will feint an attack towards Muscle Shoals. Hopefully, Danny will pull forces intended for Sheffield to meet that threat. See, he won’t weaken his forces to the east because he thinks our primary goal is to take Wilson Dam. We will pull the East Battalion back and pivot it to the west. With the wooded ridges of the old TVA reservation cleared by our racing cavalry, said militia, followed by the West Lauderdale Low Church Militia, will sweep into Sheffield, capture the Thompson Works, and stand at the face of their capital, Tuscumbia … and the prize, Ragland Palace.”

Chester started to question, “But, Harry, what if …” He slumped back in his chair. Clara hugged him, and the tent roared.

After the group calmed, Major Fuqua stated, “Harry ... son, that’s fucking brilliant and just crazy enough to work. Besides, what other choices do we have? And I see what you're doing; they will have to constantly be disengaging and reacting to us, showing up late and facing prepared positions, high ground, and brick walls. Our advantages are mobility and marksmanship ... we'll cut "em to pieces. Yes, fucking brilliant!”

Optimistically, Carol noted, “Once we occupy Sheffield, they might very well sue for peace.”

A collective sigh.

Harry said what everyone was thinking. He knelt in front of Chester and cautioned, “People, this is paper-thin. Anything could happen. Bottom line, we have to hold this bridgehead; the 2 and the 5 will support the westward advance, but the 7 and two companies of the High Church Militia will stay here, and if we have to, we’ll pull the balance of the 4 from the bridge.”

Clara asked, “Do you think it will get down to that, Harry?”

“Oh, yeah. No doubt.”

“One of the militia commanders muttered, “Shit.”

“Yep, I’m sorry I couldn’t present y’all with a battle plan earlier than this. I know you must have been thinking, “What the fuck is this kid doing?”

Carol stood and stooped down, putting her arm around Harry. She coaxed him to stand, then turned his face to hers. “You couldn’t, Harry. We understand. We’ll make this happen.”

“LAUDERDALE!”

Harry kissed her hand, then released it and focused. As he scanned the faces around him, he ordered, “We rise at zero four hundred. Feed ‘em, get ‘em ready, and brief ‘em. I had Connie type detailed battle plans for each of you; they’re on the table over there. I’ll see you all bright and early.”

Carol let her arm fall from his back as he moved away to step out into the cold night.


	15. Noon til Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Multiple battalions (thousands of soldiers) are being moved like chessmen by Harry Smith of Lauderdale and Danny Ragland of Colbert. Don't try to memorize this; go with it and feel the uncoiling snakes of infantry and mechanized warfare.
> 
> [](https://imgur.com/KcYzTvd)  
> 

Carol and Therese divided their command in two and walked and talked among the entire team. It had been a long morning of waiting, and now, well into the noon hour, they knew they would soon be engaging the enemy.

Early that morning, they had heard, then watched Ned Flanagan’s silver aircraft skirt around their western flank to eventually turn and head for its destination, the Black Force Training Center at Nitrate City. A minute or so later, they heard the rumble of Ned’s exploding ordinance.

Confirmation of Ned’s “miracle” came later as the Lauderdale’s advance skirmishers reported that the probing Colbert forces were halting or withdrawing on all sides of the perimeter.

Another lull ensued. Carol had been called in for another impromptu meeting at mid-morning. Upon her return, she informed her noncoms that Ben Smith, Harry’s uncle, was being sent under a flag of truce to submit Harry’s terms for a quick and less bloody resolution to this, the third, war between Colbert and Lauderdale. Ben returned at 10:45, and Harry messaged his commanders that the Colberts would send a courier by noon if they wanted to discuss a peaceful resolution. High noon came and went with no courier from the enemy. Instead, the Colberts began to shell the bridgehead with a handful of black powder, muzzle-loading howitzers located a mile south of the Lauderdales’ perimeter. Thusly, these guns had been popping away for more than a few minutes doing more damage to eardrums than flesh. It was unnerving.

The surrounding East Lauderdale Low Church Battalion had just retreated through the perimeter after their successful feint. They received water and food. After resting for a few minutes, they were ready for their next task, taking the City of Sheffield. The High Church Militia had been strengthening their bridgehead perimeter positions since the day before, so the incoming artillery fire had little effect on them. They had stopped the latest Colbert infantry charge dead in its tracks. The Colbert Militia attacking from the south settled into firing positions scattered between two and three hundred yards from the perimeter. For the moment, they seemed content with sniping at the Lauderdale breastworks, trenches, and foxholes.

As the last of the Low Church Militia advanced, Harry couldn’t help but admire the new uniforms of the militia and Slingshot Teams. The Lexington Mill had worked diligently over the past year to outfit them. The militia pants and hooded field jackets were made of heavy cotton duck, and the jacket had a wool lining. They were dark khaki in color. They wore shirts or sweaters of their own choosing. The Slingshots had the same trousers, but their jackets were shorter and dyed mottled green and brown. The militia had the Lauderdale Flag as one shoulder patch and their battalion flag as the other. The Slingshot Team jackets had chest patches consisting of a white fabric circle with the letter Y (representing the shape of a slingshot) and each team’s particular team number appearing in the fork of the Y, both figures in black. The militia had a cotton duck combat cap the same color as their pants and jackets while the Slingshot teams wore an eclectic mix of headgear, Old World baseball caps being most prevalent. 1911 once gave Therese a Braves cap. When she had tried to protest, he insisted she take it, stating that he had over a dozen such caps squirreled away. She proudly wore the cap today.

Carol said to Therese, “The troops marching and fighting in this November daytime weather may get a little hot, but they will appreciate these new uniforms at night, and even more so, when the rain starts and the temperature drops.”

Scooter Shelton’s 4.5-inch Parrott rifles began to fire from their lofty perch in the old eight-story Florence bank building at 12:30. Scooter intended to soften up the ridges and hollows of what was once the Tennessee Valley Authority’s reservation. For once, all the radios were working, and Harry’s busy engineers had laid an extensive network of telephone field lines. Carol got word within minutes of the artillery barrage’s cessation that the Lauderdale Cavalry had begun their assault.

Therese heard the gunfire and explosions from their western flank and envisioned the brave troopers charging in platoon strength to divide, one squad at a time, to clear the brushy ridges running from the Reservation’s road to the river.

Carol and Therese peered through their binoculars at the western horizon. The weather was declining. Partly cloudy had changed to overcast, and breezes had become winds. A rain front was approaching. Locked into their little Northwest Alabama world, the Spared Territory had little ability to forecast weather. One's senses filled the role of the Old World’s weathermen.

Abby was trying to be eyes-everywhere as she white knuckle gripped her steering wheel. She spotted Nim and Bardolph climb into the back of Alpha’s LMTV, much to the chagrin of the bed’s occupants. Profanities flew back and forth until the women surrendered and allowed the scoundrels to slump in peace. Armed with AKs and plenty of magazines, Harry must have given the pair permission to “go cause trouble” in Sheffield. Therese had seen them too. She reached down and patted Abby’s shoulder.

Almost together, the couple saw the first of Juarez’s signal flairs climb into the sky and chimed, “There it is.”

Carol, standing in her Humvee’s ring mount, raised her arm and lowered to the west.

“SLINGSHOT 2!”

Surrounded by a screen of a thousand infantry militiamen, Slingshot 2 advanced.

Resistance was sporadic and weak as they advanced, but after the third ridge was secured and passed, the team was made somber by the losses incurred by their valiant horsemen.

Ringo’s squad marksman drew first blood for the team with the 200+ yard kills of a pair of Knight mortar men.

At 13:25, Team 2 and the East Colbert Low Church Militia passed Juarez’s paused cavalry. Less dead and wounded, they were two-thirds their former strength. Carol and Therese stood tall and saluted Juarez. He proudly returned the same.

Therese noticed that Nim and Bardolph hopped down out of their ride and made their way to Jesus. She figured they had a message from Harry to give to the cavalry commander.

Therese and Carol returned their attention to the front and were met by a nauseating sight, dozens of dead teenaged Colbert Cadets littered the road and fields with two shattered trucks smoldering at the center of this carnage. The Lauderdale Cavalry had indeed sold their losses dearly.

Carol and Therese were squeezed together in their vehicle’s ring mount. Carol spoke loudly, to be heard above the engines, “Harry’s plan is working. Sheffield is virtually wide open on this side.”

Therese smiled and nodded. In spite of the situation, her attraction to her stunning major enthralled her, and each bump of a hip, leg, or shoulder sent tingles flying through her being. Her jets cooled as a barrage of mortar shells exploded around them. Several infantrymen crumbled. They could not stop; hopefully, their medics could see to them.

By 14:30, Slingshot 2’s shooters had dismounted and worked hand in hand with infantrymen to clear houses, garden walls, and hedgerows of stubborn Colbert militiamen. 

A civilian darted from a basement to Carol’s left; he clutched a flaming Molotov cocktail in his right hand. Carol, oblivious to the threat, was scanning to the front with her binoculars. Therese spotted the assailant, pushed in front of and across Carol, leveled her M4 on the brave little man, and dropped him with a full-auto burst. He tumbled into a burning mass. One of Therese’s projectiles must have shattered his cobbled weapon.

Without thinking, Carol blurted, “Thanks, Angel!”

Driver Abby had heard Carol’s words. She realized that Therese had probably just saved all three of them. She murmured, “Archangel.”

At 15:05, Carol's combined force was nearing the downtown area of Sheffield. Abby had stopped the vehicle, climbed out, and was trying to pull a large branch hung beneath their chassis. Carol was uncomfortable with the excessive spacing between her Humvees and LMTVs. She urged, “Therese, see if you can help her.”

Like a squirrel down a den tree, Therese slipped out of the vehicle and was kneeling at Abby’s side. A bullet ripped through their windshield, and others whizzed by them. Carol spotted a group of Colbert militia and armed civilians charging them from the front. She aimed her M4 and coolly began double-tapping the mixed force. Therese flattened to the ground and began the same from prone while Abby flattened underneath her open door and delivered pistol fire. Charlie’s Humvee raced in from the right, and its machine gunner hosed what was left of the attackers.

At 16:05, Deb Romine and Judy Kelley had boldly scouted a couple of hundred yards ahead of the rest of Alpha. Judy eased around a lovely old stone house and saw a Knight recon vehicle parked in the middle of Hatch Boulevard with its three crewmen trying to change a flat tire. She noted the one standing watch wasn’t, so she crept a little closer and knelt behind a massive oak. All three Knights were soon kicking or writhing on the pavement as Judy’s well-aimed M16A4 fire took its toll. 

Just as darkness rolled in, Team 2 set up a temporary HQ at the Sheffield City Hall. Slingshot 5 had arrived, and after conferring with Carol, Clara took her team further southwest to support the infantry. The exhausted militiamen were still at it, preparing defensive positions between Sheffield and Tuscumbia. Refugees were streaming out of Sheffield; Carol and Clara ordered all personnel to let these Colbert civilians flee en masse. One, their soldiers did not have the means to deal with them, and two, the refugees would flood Tuscumbia, increasing chaos and panic in their capital.

Therese asked Carol if she wanted her personal tent and the mess tents set up, or would she rather them use the vacant city hall for this. Carol pondered a moment and replied, “Yes, set them both up. Let’s use the city hall for a field hospital on the first floor, a communication center on the second, and the toilet facilities. Is the water still running?”

“It is, and believe it or not, the electricity.”

“That won’t last for long. Charge anything you can and fill all the canteens and water containers we can get our hands-on. Oh, and Abby sent a runner to notify the militia commanders to do the same.”

“Yes, Ma’am!”

At 19:08, 1911 negotiated Slingshot 8 around a couple of Lauderdale militiamen’s bodies on Hatch Boulevard in Sheffield. It was the first of many such scenes. Both khaki and black-clad corpses littered the lawns and streets of the town. The rain had started. As they approached Montgomery Avenue, Harry scanned ahead with his night vision gear. He spotted Major Aird’s Team 2 at the Sheffield City Hall.

After getting the all-clear to advance, 1911 drove them up to the cluster of vehicles and tents. Yet another field hospital was set up on the ground floor of the government building. Medics were doing what they could, tending wounded soldiers from both sides of the river.

Carol walked up and hugged Harry. She reported, “As you can see, Harry, I decided to set up the next HQ here. We actually got Neva on the radio and informed her of this location. She said that her staff just about had the communications and command group packed and would be here by 20:00. Oh… she also reported that the enemy’s shelling of the bridgehead had stopped thanks to the assault by our cavalry. Unfortunately, the cavalry lost most of its personnel, including Jesus.”

Harry sighed and looked down, then lifted his eyes back to Carol’s and asked, “How many troopers are left?”

“Just a handful, Harry. Your Uncle Ben deactivated them and ordered acting platoon leader Sergeant Gillespie to hold in reserve at the bridgehead.”

Harry contemplated in silence.

Carol added, “Harry, as thin as we are at the bridge, it will be good to have the troopers back there. How many did you end up leaving on the perimeter?”

Harry responded, “Just two companies of the High Church Militia Battalion, some kids from Supply, and now the troopers. Oh, and Slingshot 7, of course.”

“Chester has his team’s single set of night vision gear, right?”

“Yes, he was going to try and bounce around the perimeter to keep an eye on the Colbert forces still entrenched to their east and south.”

“How many Colberts are there, ya’ think?”

“Two battalions at least, but we’ve shot them to pieces today.”

“Where are the other two companies of High Church Militia?” “They are not far behind us ... should be arriving anytime. I’m not in contact with them. How ‘bout sending some runners back to lead them in?”

Carol addressed Therese, who had just joined them. “Top, you hear that?”

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll send Privates Gillespie and Joiner from Bravo back to find them.”

“Fine, Therese, and by the way, Bonnie Gillespie may hear scuttlebutt about the cavalry. Be sure to tell her that at last report, her daddy is okay and standing in support back at the bridgehead.”

“Yes, ma’am, will do.”

As Therese hurried off, she passed by the 8. She jibed at 1911, standing by the driver’s side door, “Hi, Handsome!”

He laughed and replied, “Hi, Cutie! Hey, I like the hat.”

She stopped, smirked, and asked, “Where are your ugly friends?”

“Oh, kicking around up here somewhere, I reckon. You had ‘em last; what did you do with ‘em?”

“We dropped them off back at the reservation. I have not seen them since.”

“Hmm, they’ll probably be along sooner or later.”

“Sure, Mort. Those two SOBs always land on their feet, huh?”

“Absolutely.”

“Hey, where’s Robby?”

“Aw, Harry was worried about him coming out here in this dog fight. He put the kid in charge of a bunch of orphans that had volunteered to come to the bridgehead and work supplies.”

“Oh, that’s good. I like that boy.”

“Me, too, Top ... me, too.”

“Well, I gotta run. See ya’ round.”

“Yeah, see ya’, Therese.”

Back with the commanders, Harry asked Carol, “Whatcha’ think, Carol?”

“I don’t know, Harry. There seems to be a Colbert rifleman behind every damned tree. The Low Church losses are piling up. Hell, I have two killed and three wounded from my team. These Colberts never seem to surrender, and they are dying in droves. Shit, Harry, they have a lot of people. Our militiamen say that the Colbert ranks are refilling with armed civilians from their southern mountain chain ... old men, boys, and women.”

Harry glanced over at Carol’s team area, assessed her folks, then asked, “Do you think we will hit our objectives tonight?”

“I do, Harry. Clara and the militia have secured the Thompson Industrial complex intact. We should soon have the Low Church Militia in temporary defensive positions from the river to the western bend in the railroad tracks then all along the tracks and 2nd Street to Woodward Avenue in Muscle Shoals.”

“Any specifics yet on losses, Carol?”

“No, sir. Not really. Heavy.”

Harry stood in concerned silence with the rain beating down. Carol said, “Come on over to my tent, Harry. My girls found some coffee in their town hall building. I’ll get ya’ a cup ... Ol’ 1911, too.”

Harry smiled, wiped the rainwater from his face, turned back to Mort, and commanded, “Mort, shut ‘er down. The Major has invited us for coffee.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ ](https://imgur.com/hhI6aZ1)
> 
> [](https://imgur.com/mQqUbgi)  
> 


	16. A Bit of Heaven in Hell

In spite of the electrical power now being turned off in Sheffield, Lieutenant Neva Lazo de la Vega, Lauderdale Combined Forces Communication Director, had her operation set up on the second floor of Sheffield City Hall at 19:35. Her folks had a biodiesel generator powering the city hall. Harry was thrilled that this move had gone so quickly and smoothly. He praised her and her staff, shaking hands and patting backs.

As soon as the chatter slowed, Neva called Harry and subtly pointed to an empty office. He caught the urgency in her action and quickly moved to the room. Neva closed the door.

Harry asked, “What’s up, Neva … is it Cheetah?”

“It is … well, more the absence of Cheetah.”

“What?”

“Our radio conversation this afternoon was garbled.”

“Yes, I got the part about Cheetah checking in and reporting that the Colberts suffered almost three hundred casualties at the training center’s parade ground and were trying to transfer militia forces from east to west to meet the Lauderdale’s advance through Sheffield. You pretty much broke up after that … and we couldn’t get you back.”

“What I said after that was that Cheetah had just started a line about 'C,' Danny Ragland, sending out an urgent notice for all Black Force Knights to leave their duty stations and report at … then the message stopped.”

“No sign off?”

“None … and we have heard nothing since.”

“Not a peep?”

“None, Sir.”

Harry stepped out of the office and found Abby and 1911 waiting for him. They saw the concern on his face, but both knew it was not their place to allude to it.

Abby decided it best to assertively move on by delivering Carol’s suggestion for Harry and 1911. “Harry, Carol thought, given the lull in the battle, that you two might best be served with a couple-a-three hours of sleep … you may not have another chance for who knows how long. Anyway, we’ve got what is obviously the Sheffield Mayor’s office set up for y’all. There are two big leather couches in there with blankets.”

Surprised by the notion, Harry contemplated the option.

1911 spoke, “Harry, she’s got a point.”

Harry asked, “Have any of you seen hide or hair of Nim and Bardolph?”

Abby and 1911 shook their heads, then 1911 replied, “Not since they left the bridgehead with the 2.”

Abby added, “And they left us back on the reservation: they were talking with Captain Juarez when I last saw them.”

Harry growled, “Shit, I knew I shouldn’t have let them loose to go flat heading around over here.” Sarcastically he added, “And I’m sure they’re complying with my Directive for Interactions with Colbert Non-combatants.”

Just as sarcastically, 1911 uttered, “No doubt, Mr. Prez.”

Abby urged, “Hey, y’all could be sleepin’ instead of worryin’ … look, go lay down. I’ll put the word out to everybody at HQ that anyone coming across those two are to tell them you want them to report here ASAP.”

Harry relented, “Okay, where are these couches at?”

Abby eased the Mayor’s door closed on Harry and 1911 and hurried down the six flights of crisscrossing stairs to exit the looming old building.

She made her way to Carol’s tent. Therese had just finished checking in with each of her squad leaders and was updating Carol about everyone’s status.

Abby let her finish, then suggested, “Look you two, I just tucked in Harry and Mort in the Sheffield Mayor’s office.”

Carol and Therese chuckled.

Abby went on, “Yeah, yeah … that’s cute, isn’t it? Well, I tell ya what is not … Major Hottie and Top-rese becoming walking zombies. So, Dr. Abby has prescribed the following for y’all.”

Therese and Carol stared attentively.

Abby commanded, “Drop whatever shit you’re doin’ and come with me. Come on … right now … I mean it.”

She led them out and paused to address the lone sentry guarding Carol’s tent. “Hey, Bobcat, listen hard, girl … these two need some sleep… I reconnoitered that big red brick house across the street earlier. Romine and Kelley are over there. They are going to stand guard while our commanders take a nap. If anybody shows up here at the Major’s tent and has something urgent for her … like we are being overrun … well, run over there and wake ‘em up. Otherwise, tell them to fuck off. Got that?”

“Yes, Corporal.”

“Good, girl! Now, come on, ladies.”

Carol protested, “But Abby, I see what you’re doing, and it’s very nice, but I could just lay down in my tent for an hour an—”

“With all due respect, Major … hush!”

Therese just smiled.

As they walked up the 14 front porch steps to enter the 19thCentury residence, Judy greeted, “Good evening, Major … Top ... enjoy your rest.”

Deb was standing with the house’s massive, hardwood door open.

Carol had surrendered; she shot a sparkling eyed glance at Therese.

Abby directed, “Now, the master bedroom is upstairs and to your right. It has a king-size bed with the finest cotton sheets I’ve ever seen … and a down comforter. I’ve turned it 'down' for you. The pillows are the size of Therese … enjoy.”

Carol and Therese were beyond words. Teary-eyed, they smiled at Abby.

Abby started to exit, then she turned and whispered, “Don’t fuck the whole time; you really do need to get some sleep.”

Abby stepped out on to the big porch while Deb eased the door shut behind her. Abby took in the view, and a splendid one it was despite the rain and darkness. _God, what a lovely view of downtown Sheffield! When were you here, Abby? ST53 or 4, maybe … just a girl._ _Such a sorry state of affairs._

Abby sighed then performed a quick weapons check on the dimly lit porch. After effortlessly shaving a few of the tiny hairs from the skin of her wrist, she smiled and slipped her Fairbairn-Sykes dagger back into its thigh scabbard. With her back to them, Abby stated, “Shooters, I’m going to make the rounds for the major. I’ll be back in a short, short.”

“Understood, Corporal,” responded Judy.

Deb and Judy watched Abby tap down the steps and disappear into the night.

Carol grabbed Therese’s hand, and side-by-side, they raced up the stairs to the sumptuous lamp-lit bedroom. They halted to take it in, and Carol marveled, “Finally, a real bed … heaven.”

Therese touched a silk-covered chair and marveled, “This fabric … the furniture.”

“Fuck the furniture, honey,” teased Carol as she released her hand and rushed to the far side of the bed.

Therese stepped to the near side; they paused for just a second to gaze at one another. As if a starter pistol had fired, they began to rip off combat gear and uniforms. Carol won as a stubborn bootlace slowed Therese. After Therese was finally without a stitch, she turned to find Carol half under the covers with outstretched arms and beckoning heart-throbbing breasts.

They wrapped around one another, trying to make contact with every square inch of their burning flesh. Long, dizzying kisses caused them to pause and gasp for air. Carol rolled on top of Therese then kissed and nibbled her way down Therese’s luscious neck, breasts, belly, and thighs. Therese writhed in ecstasy. Carol struck like a viper at Therese’s clitoris. Therese could not totally muffle the ensuing scream. Carol giggled with joy, thusly fueled, she dove back in faster and deeper, relentlessly driving Therese to climax.

Almost without pause, the sergeant took the offensive. As she kissed Carol’s lips, neck, and breasts, she put her thumb and fingers to work between Carol’s creamy thighs. Minutes passed. Now crashing in rapture, Carol bit her strong hand’s finger while her other hand rhythmically stroked and squeezed Therese’s back, arm, shoulder, and ass. Carol came for the umpteenth and the hardest time as Therese achieved her objective by working her entire little fist inside Major Hottie.

During the sweaty combat, the soldiers had knocked their covers to the foot of the bed. Now at rest, they were getting a chill. On the same note, they crawled down to retrieve the crisp sheets and plush comforter. Cuddling up in the middle of the big bed, they literally passed out.

Outside, Deb asked, “Judy, do we make that much noise?”

“Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me, babycakes? They’re good, but they ain’t got nothing on us.”


	17. Karma

At 22:11, Dannie McElroy nervously walked over to the house to which Carol’s sentry had directed him.

Judy asked, “What’s up, Corporal?”

Dannie shielded his eyes from the glare of a hand-cranked lamp, trying to make out the face of the shooter.

Judy lifted and swung the heavy light behind her.

Dannie said, “Oh, hi, Judy. Hey, is Major Aird in there?”

“She is, but Corporal Abby told us not to disturb her unless it was urgent.”

“Well, Private, this is pretty fuckin’ urgent.”

Judy nodded at Deb. Deb eased the door open and stepped inside.

A few minutes later, Deb stepped out and told Dannie, “She’ll be right out, Corporal.”

“Great.”

Another five minutes later, Carol opened the door and emerged, surprisingly to Dannie, Therese followed. They hurried down the steps.

Dannie saluted Carol, and she returned it asking, “How can I help you, Corporal.”

Dannie was distracted, even a bit befuddled by the seductive beauty of the sleepy pair. Thoughts raced through his mind. Holy _shit, they’ve been …_

Therese rescued him, “Dannie, did Carol’s sentry send you over here?”

“Uh, yeah … hi, Therese.” Dannie focused, “Major, Captain Smith sent me to request that President Smith accompany me back to her area … we have come across something he needs to see.”

Carol had already started returning to her tent with Dannie and Therese in tow. She repeated, “'Something he needs to see’?” Well, Therese, would you be so kind as to go up there and inform Harry of this request.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” complied Therese. Then painfully, on stiff joints and muscles, she jogged towards the city hall.

“Come wait in my tent, Corporal McElroy.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

Carol asked Bobcat, “Hello, Private, have you seen Corporal Gerhard?”

“Yes, Major, she came back from making the rounds about an hour ago then told me she was going to go get some sleep.”

“In here?”

“No, Ma’am. She said she had found a place to sleep up on the top floor of that Sheffield building.”

Carol glanced up at the early 20th Century cube.

“Would you like me to get her, Ma’am?”

“No, Private, let her sleep. Here, Corporal McElroy … uh, Dannie is it? Come in, and have a seat.”

“Yes, Major.”

Harry, 1911, and Therese arrived a few minutes later. Harry went right to it, “Hey, Dannie, what have y’all found?”

“Hi, Harry. Honestly, Sir, I don’t know … Captain Smith woke me up and ordered me to drive over with the request.”

“Okay then ... Mort, let’s go see what’s what with the 5.”

Carol interjected, “Harry, do you mind if Therese accompanies you? It could save some back and forth if we need to be involved.”

“That is an excellent idea, Major. Therese, how about riding with Dannie? I’m embarrassed to have a woman ride in the Stinky 8.”

Dannie directed, “1911, follow me. Captain Smith told me which street to take to get to the spot in question. C’mon, Therese.”

The two Humvees lumbered off into the darkness. The rain had stopped. Carol watched them until they vanished around a corner, heading north. She thought, _Hm, nice neighborhood … town gentry._ She lit a cigarette and took a long draw. With the lovely warmth filling her lungs, she smiled; I _gotta say, Colbert Townies, y’all sure can festoon a bedroom._

There was a deathly silence in the 5’s Humvee. After a few minutes, Therese couldn’t stand it and blurted, “Okay, fine! We were fuckin’ in that big house. Okay, you know … shit, everybody’s gonna know sooner or later.”

“Hey, Therese, calm down. They won’t know from me. It’s cool, girl! I get it. Shit! She is Major Hottie … holy fuck!”

They started laughing.

Dannie shushed, “Whoa! I think we’re close.”

Therese pointed, “Yeah, that’s y’all’s LMTV and Clara’s Humvee. Good Lord, who’s watchin’ the front fuckin’ door?”

“I know, right?”

Clara greeted Harry as he exited the 8, “Cuz, this is bad. I mean it … you, too, Mort. Y’all follow Phil.”

Harry gave 1911 a concerned glance as they walked behind Phil. He took them beside one two-story Victorian, behind and beside another, then turned on to its front lawn. Phil aimed and fired his flashlight towards the center of the yard. There was a body prostrate in the mix of wet fescue and colorful leaves.

The site of the corpse in itself was nothing amazing given the hundreds they had seen that day, but a gasp from 1911 shocked Harry.

“Harry, that’s Nim!” exclaimed 1911 as he ran and went to both knees at the side of the body. He lifted it and brought the face into view.

Harry had closed, now his denial was gone as well. He slumped down and put one arm around 1911 while grasping Nim’s cold hand with the other.

Therese and Dannie watched in disbelief. She grabbed his hand, and he pulled in close and put his arm around her.

After a few minutes, Clara stepped to the other side of Nim’s body to address Harry and 1911. Hey, guys, I hate it, but there’s no easy way around this … Bardolph’s body is up on the porch of this house.”

1911 cried, “Oh, fuck naw!”

Clara knew they couldn’t linger out here for very long; there were just too many hidden eyes left in the old river town. At 22:40, she had her shooters gather the bodies and load them in their LMTV.

Harry and 1911 sat on the porch steps side by side. Angrily, Harry asked, “Clara, do you have any idea what happened? Hell, I see how they died. That’s some classic commando shit.”

Clara nodded, “Yep, Harry … a knife slipped up under their ribs from behind.”

“Who coulda pulled this off on these two old salty dogs?”

Now listen, Harry, I know you smelled ‘em. They’d been drinkin’, and there’s evidence in the house … liquor bottles strewn all over. So, I think we know they weren’t close to a hundred percent.”

1911 growled, “Stupid motherfuckers.”

Clara continued, “And, there are witnesses.”

Harry’s eyes shot up to hers. She could see them clearly with the first light of a three-quarter moon breaking through the cloud cover. Harry was shivering. The rain was ahead of a cold front; the temperature had dropped ten degrees in the last couple of hours.

Dannie had fetched blankets from his vehicle. He and Therese draped them over Harry and 1911’s shoulders.

Clara continued, “One of my Bravo elements was patrolling this area about an hour ago. They heard screams from this house. They checked it out and found these two, just like you saw them and an old Colbert woman screaming up on this porch. Well, my boys saw that there was nothing they could do for Nim or Bardolph, so they helped the woman back into the house and sat her down. They questioned her after she calmed down a bit. 

Harry, dreading what was coming, stoically asked, “What did she say?”

“It seems … according to her, that she and her twenty-something granddaughter were hiding in this basement. She was too feeble to flee with her neighbors, so her granddaughter insisted on staying with her. Nim and Bardolph busted in around dark and started looting the place. They made it to the basement and found the women.”

Therese’s hands clenched in fists.

“Harry, they tied the old woman in a chair in the parlor and gagged her.”

Clara’s voice broke. She coughed to clear her throat and wiped her eyes on her sleeve, then cried, “Y’all, those two bastards tied the younger woman to one of the beds and raped her.”

1911 murmured, “Goddam, them.”

No one could speak for a while.

Clara finished, “She said she passed out at some point, but when she came to, she was still in the same chair with her hands and ankles cut loose… and the gag was removed. She made it to the bedroom to check on her daughter and found her restraints cut free as well. The daughter was covered in blankets, but she was in shock and listless. Grandma just stumbled to the porch, collapsed, and started screaming for help. I had our medic take the ladies to that rec hall where we been gatherin’ such stragglers.”

Therese walked into the house to inspect the scene. When she emerged, she reported, “Yep, it pretty much squares … and hey, where the curtain cords were cut to free the women, there’s blood on them.”

Dannie surmised, “So, the same party that killed our guys freed the two Colbert women.”

Therese shook her head and uttered, “I guess.”

Phil proposed, “I bet some Black Force Knight or two was left behind to spy on us and they happened on this shit goin’ down.”

Brashly, Therese opined, “Whoever it was definitely had skills; those are two very clean knife kills. The thing is, both sides of the river have no shortage of trained killers ... after fifty-odd years of bloody shit like this.”

One of Clara’s shooters appeared.

Clara saw the young man’s excitement and asked, “Oh my God, what’s happened now?"

The private reported in a non-stop stream, “Cap’n, I just talked to Sparks back at your HQ. The militia has dropped off a prisoner there. It’s a woman with some crazy ass story. She crossed over from Tuscumbia, under fire, to surrender ... crawled right through their lines. She is demanding to see Harry. She says to tell Harry that Cheetah has come home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [](https://imgur.com/brQH9LJ)   
> 


	18. Jenny Hart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [](https://imgur.com/9gawoio)   
> 

The word “Cheetah” seemed to knock Harry right out of his anguish. He had barked orders with fearsome clarity. Therese, now riding with Phil, was still spinning after Harry reengaged. He had them departing the site of Nim and Bardolph’s demise in seconds. Harry had ordered Therese to accompany the 5’s commanders back to Clara’s HQ. She and Clara were to secure the interloper and bring her back to the 2’s HQ. He insisted that Phil and Dannie stay with the 5 and bring their team to high alert. Harry and 1911 would bring Carol up to speed and be waiting for Clara, Therese, and their prisoner. The two Tops said nothing on the drive; deep within their own thoughts, they stared ahead at the muted taillights of Clara’s Humvee.

The convoy pulled up at a little house Clara was using as an HQ. Therese anxiously followed Clara into the single-story Old World cottage to find two shooters attentively standing guard over a petite brunette. With a towel draped over her shoulders, the woman was using one corner to dry her hair.

It was Clara’s place to speak first, but Therese uncontrollably blurted, “Jenny Hart?”

The woman dropped the towel from her shoulder-length hair and met Therese’s stare. Therese saw the light come on in the woman’s dark brown eyes.

The detainee responded, “Therese?”

Therese’s first instinct was to run and hug the Smith Academy senior who went out of her way to befriend a mousy little 11-year-old abandoned to the state by a heartless bitch of a mother.

Clara took control, “Hold on just a fuckin’ minute, ladies!” Clara stared at the woman’s face trying to pull an image from her memory, then stated, “Jenny Hart is dead.”

The alleged “Cheetah” smirked and asked, “That’s right, Clara … well sort of.”

In her amazement, Therese had momentarily forgotten the fact that Jenny Hart died in a water skiing accident at her graduating class’s celebratory cookout.

Clara snapped at her shooters, “Y’all are relieved, Top and I have got this … close the door behind you.” As they departed, Clara drew her cocked and locked Officer’s Model 1911 .45 and held it low ready muzzle down.

The prisoner chimed, “Thanks for the towels and cup of coffee, guys,” then she glared at Clara. “I understand the concern, but you really don’t need that weapon. Hey, where’s Harry? We’ve got a shit storm coming our way, and I need to—”

“You need to shut up for a minute,” demanded Clara.

The woman sat back in her chair, exasperatedly shaking her head. Disheveled but still strikingly attractive, she wore a mud-splattered, black pencil skirt that was ripped open on one side from hem to hip. Her white blouse was covered in blood and grime. She had slipped off her soaked and muddy flats and wrapped a second towel around them, obviously to dry and warm them up a bit. Therese was reminded of a businesswoman, personal assistant, or secretary.

The woman asked, “How about Alice Boyd, then?

That triggered Therese, and she drew her polymer-framed .45 as well; Alice Boyd had been the subject of many the Colbert Threat Briefing. No photograph existed of the legendary Knight trainer turned personal assistant/bodyguard to the Colbert president’s daughter, Catherine Isabel Ragland. Alice Boyd represented the best of Colbert’s carefully groomed warrior class; an apex predator possessed of mad skills.

This mysterious entity exclaimed, “Aw, fuck! You two? We gotta go. There is no time for this shit.” She paused to calm herself, then asked, “Clara, you didn’t go to Smith like Therese, but we’ve met.”

Still searching, Clara asked, “Where exactly was that, praytell?”

“On the ball field … Clara, do you remember the Lauderdale Softball Championship of ST56? It was your senior year at Florence, and you were their ace. It was the bottom of the seventh, and y’all had a 5 to 4 lead over Smith’s Academy. You had not given up a run since the third, so your coach left you in. You struck out the first two batters, Barb Hovater and Glenda King. Next, Sammie Crow reached second off a throwing error by your shortstop, Nannie Farris. You walked the next hitter, Joan Gunderson, a lefty, to get to their skinny little freshman. But you underestimated her and ended up with a three-two count. You couldn’t afford to walk her because Ann McCoy, Smith’s best hitter, was on deck. Shocking to you, I’m sure. The little girl moved to the other side of the plate. You tried to burn her with your fastball.”

Tears were now in Clara’s eyes, and she interjected, “Right across the plate.”

Alice finished, “With a full count, my girls were on the run. I hit a liner between your first and second basemen, beat out the throw to first, and both our girls scored.”

Context burned through the clouds of time, Clara lowered her pistol and marveled, “You’re that switch hittin’ little filly?”

“Here is the short and nasty of it. I was secretly groomed by Wade, Ben, and Harry Smith, who literally saved my life when I was thirteen, to become their covert operative in Colbert. In all modesty, my success in Colbert has exceeded their wildest expectations. After they faked my death and burial, I was placed with a reclusive Cherokee widow. Inserted as rural, poverty-stricken white trash… actually, not a stretch for me… in ST59, I slipped into their world… their culture… and with the desperate need for Knight replacements in ST61, following the Three Day War, they relaxed their vetting process. I was in… I worked hard to be noticed but not famous.” She chuckled, “But seeing your pistols, I guess I achieved ‘infamous.’ Eventually, the grand prize fell in my lap … a job working directly for the Ragland family. Ladies, meet the late Alice Boyd, now risen from the grave, Jenny Hart, aka Cheetah … and by the way, I’ve never killed or even injured a Lauderdale, contrary to what you may have heard in your overzealous threat briefings.”

Therese holstered her weapon and rushed to Jenny.

Jenny stood and hugged her laughing, “Therese you’ve grown up good, sweet girl. I’ve kept tabs, and I’m so proud of you.”

Clara came over after securing her own sidearm and numbly joined the hug.

With a quacking voice, Jenny asked, “Y’all can we go now? I’ve needed to get some info to Harry since this afternoon. All it will do is save our fucking little world.”

Clara pushed them all apart and commanded, “Therese, you drive. The President is waiting.”


	19. Spread Thin and All In

Jenny Hart barely let the Humvee stop before she leaped from her seat and ran to hug Harry. Therese and Clara got out but paused; they wanted to give the agent and her president a moment. Carol walked over and asked, “So, that’s Harry’s mole?”

Clara answered, “That is her indeed, one Miss Jenny Hart.”

“Jenny Hart? Why do I know that name?”

“Because she died when she was eighteen in a water skiing accident on Shoal Creek in ST59.”

“What the hell! Oh … uhm … I see.”

“Do you?’

“No. Well, I think so.”

Therese laughed, “Well, perhaps Captain Smith will bring you up to speed while I go grab my spare uniform for Alice Boyd. The poor thing must be freezing.”

“Alice Boyd?”

Therese laughed and hurried away. She located Carol’s Humvee and went to the back to find her pack. She and Jenny were about the same size, so she gathered trousers, a wool combat sweater, panties, long johns, and wool socks. She hesitated but decided this was not the time for sentimentality. Therese headed to Carol’s tent. Earlier, a couple of the noncoms brought the Slingshot jackets and boots of their deceased team members. Carol had one of the cooks bring her an empty food tub. She had packed the unfortunate warriors’ items in the tub to keep them dry and stored the container in her tent. Therese located the tub and picked a pair of boots that seemed about the right size, and of the short coats, she picked the least gruesome. Therese sprinted back with her armload. 

Harry and Carol had decided to hold the meeting away from the city hall; it now housed injured soldiers and civilians from top to bottom. Instead, they selected a diner on Montgomery Avenue. Therese entered panting, and exclaimed, “Here ya go, Jenny!”

“Bless your heart, Therese! Harry, do you mind if I step to the restroom and change real quick?”

“No, not at all, Jenny.”

They all hustled together and scrounged sodas, donuts, and cold bacon from the diner’s kitchen. They prepared plates and sat around the diner’s only large table.

When Jenny returned, she looked the true soldier.

Therese asked, "Do the boots fit, Jenny?

Jenny nodded and shot Therese an okay sign.

Therese apologized for the .50 caliber hole with a one-inch darkened bloodstain around it, “Hey, I’m sorry for that bullet hole.”

Jenny looked down at it, “Oh, a muzzleloader’s ball, I guess a medic had this coat off before it could get saturate the garment ... poor girl. No fucking prob, Therese, that’s a badge of honor.”

Harry began by asking Jenny, “So, you told me they finally caught you today.”

“Yes, I was sending that message... you know, the incomplete one you received this afternoon? Well, I was tapping away from the janitorial closet in which I kept my Morse transmitter/receiver hid. The Knight in charge of security must have been watching my every move the last few days. He and another one caught me transmitting. They detained me for interrogation in Little Charles’s meeting chamber; it’s in the basement of the Palace. To make a long story short, I knew I was a dead girl walking and vowed to take advantage of the first opportunity I got. That opening came, and I achieved advantage over the aforementioned Knight and Assistant Constable Lawrence Foster. Without too much of a ruckus, I killed them both plus a Knight standing guard outside the chamber. I armed myself and used the Knight’s keys to flee the Palace through its escape tunnel. I made my way through Tuscumbia to the battle line and crossed.”

The others sat mesmerized until Carol exclaimed, “Jesus H. Christ, that's one for the grandkids.”

Jenny grinned, “Well, I was lucky. The bad weather and crowds of refugees helped me slip through town. Damn, I had to sprint, then hide, then crawl, then sprint again …” She laughed.

Carol teased, “I loved the outfit.”

“I know! At one point, I was hiding in some piece-of-shit old car … you know, up on blocks in some peckerwood’s backyard … I was thinking, ‘Jenny, what would be the worst possible set of clothes to have on to kill three SOBs in hand-to-hand combat then run two miles through a rainstorm with a temp in the mid-thirties?' I had to cover my mouth to keep from laughing out loud. But, hey, that rip to the hip really set it off, huh?”

Therese said, “I liked it.”

The others all laughed at her expense.

Embarrassed, she said, “No, that’s not what I meant … I thought it was smart… so she could run.”

Before she could catch herself, Carol leaned over, and side hugged Therese, but the others didn’t seem to think anything of it.

Harry brought the meeting back on track. “Jenny, do they know you are privy to the vital information you are about to share?”

“Harry, I left all the ones that caught and detained me dead. And with a high degree of certainty, I believe the RagLands now think a Slingshot team made a failed attempt to kill or capture Little Charles. Not finding my body will just confuse the Raglands further ... at least for a while.”

“I see. Alright, what’s about to go down.”

“Danny Ragland is going to hit your bridgehead sometime after 01:00 but no later than 02:00.”

“With what? He is spread from one end of Colbert to the other.”

“This afternoon, I read a freshly decoded memo sent from Danny Ragland, in the field, to Edward Ragland at the Palace. Danny was strongly requesting Eddie’s assistance in gathering every Black Force Knight available for use in a concentrated assault. Not only the ones in the lines of Tuscumbia and Muscle Shoals but those from their eastern and western assignments as well.”

“Did the message state they were going to be employed to attack the bridgehead?”

“No, sir, but he had the Knights from the east assemble at Wilson Dam, and those close by and to the west at the Tuscumbia barracks. If Danny was going to use them against your… I’m sorry ... our troops in Sheffield, it would seem logical to have this Knight-army all gather in Tuscumbia. Oh, and the memo directed Eddie to have a militia company previously sent to guard Wheeler Dam rerouted to Wilson Dam. That places the entire 2nd Battalion of the Western Colbert Militia Regiment at Wilson Dam.”

“I see your point, Jenny. When would this memo have been sent?”

“Early this afternoon. Eddie departed to fulfill his cousin’s request in the middle of the afternoon. Oh, and get this, Harry. Danny stated in the memo that he would personally command the assembly.”

Carol looked at Harry and asked, “What do you think, Mr. President?”

Harry announced, “It’s five-to-midnight. I pulled Major Fuqua and the 4 from guarding the bridge earlier; they are now backing up the line at Muscle Shoals. I can’t afford to pull him for this. Carol, you’re gonna have to do the same for all of Sheffield with only Slingshot 2. Clara, get your people ready to roll. We’re headin’ to the bridgehead ASAP.”

Clara asked, “Slingshots 8 and 5 are all we’re sending? Against all those Knights?”

Harry thought for a second and asked, “Does anybody know where the two companies of High Church Militia are located … at this very moment … the ones I pulled from the bridgehead earlier?”

Carol answered, “You’re in luck, Harry. Since we had reached our primary objectives in Sheffield, I ordered their company commanders to hold them in reserve near the Sheffield end of O’Neal Bridge. I was going to hand them off to Major Fuqua at dawn to help with the assault on Muscle Shoals. Screw that, huh?”

“Exactly, Major. Please have Neva radio the bridgehead and alert them to this new threat, then have her contact the folks at O’Neal Bridge folks. Order those High Church company commanders to double-time back to the Singing River bridgehead. Oh, an’ tell ‘em that Harry said to forget all their shit. Just grab their weapons and ammo, and go. Get word to supply to watch over the stuff they leave behind.”

“Consider it done, Harry, let’s go, Therese,” said Carol; they stood to exit.

Clara caught Carol’s sleeve, “Whoa up a second, folks. I have issues.”

Harry asked, “How big?”

Clara answered, “One of my LMTVs was hit badly this evening. It is short on tires, and I have no spares plus, its radiator is toast.”

Carol suggested, “Get your people to hoof it over here, Clara. Y’all can take Alpha’s LMTV, and I’ll send my mechanics over with what few spares we have left to try and get your LMTV running. We’ll swap back when you get back.”

Clara smiled and asked, “Get back?”

Carol lightly punched her bicep and replied, “Hell, yeah!”

Jenny blurted out, “Harry, I wanna go!”

Harry saw by the look in Jenny’s eyes that there was no way he could deny the request, “Okay, Jenny the 8 is down to just me and 1911. We’d love the company. You want the passenger seat or the M240 in the ring mount?”

“Hell, an M240? I’ve never had the pleasure. I’ll figure it out during the ride over.”

“That’s my girl!”

Clara caught Jenny’s sleeve this time. “Jenny, don’t forget your weapons are in the 5, and I’ve got a couple of more magazines for that dead Knight’s AK too.”

Therese spontaneously hugged Jenny, saying, “Jenny, be careful. I’ll see you when this is all over.”

“Bet on it, TeeBee!”

As they hurried to Carol’s HQ, Carol inquired, “TB?”

Oh, no, it’s T-E-E-B-E-E. When I started at Smith… at age eleven, Jenny was a senior… she took a shine to me and had my back. She called me her little TeeBee. I guess what the Smiths had her do these past ten years will work out best for the Spared Territory, but I’ll never forgive them for faking her death. Carol that broke my heart.”

“Damn, Therese, you collect nicknames like nobody’s business.“

Therese didn’t know what to say.

As they neared Carol’s tent, they saw Abby. Carol teased Abby, “Well, darlin’, did you get your nap out?”

“I did, thank you very much. They finally kicked my ass out of that big chair I was curled up in and put some giant militiaman in it with a bullet through his calf. Can you imagine?”

“Of all the gall.”

Therese pointed out, “You’ve missed all the excitement.”

Hesitantly, Abby asked, “Oh, really, what?”

“One, every fucking Knight in fucking Colbert is attacking the bridgehead in the wee hours. Two, we recruited Alice Boyd to ride with the president and Mort to the bridgehead and die in a hail of bullets. Three, they’re taking the 5 with ‘em and leaving our ass here to defend Sheffield with a few hundred exhausted militiamen. Oh, and four, they found your buddies, Nim and Bardolph, bled out about five blocks northwest of here.”

Abby, did not respond.

Therese added, “Yep! Somebody didn’t take kindly to them having their way with a Colbert woman while tied spread eagle to a bed. Whoever put a knife in their black hearts… well, they’re my fucking hero.”

In a stern tone, Carol asked, “Okay, Angel, do you have that all off your cute little chest now?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“Good … hey, girls, Harry and the others at the bridgehead are going to get pounded. If they can hold, that will be great, but it will be for naught if we can’t hold this right flank… not to mention Major Fuqua holding the center. We clear?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“I understand, Carol.”

“Therese, send a runner to Alpha and give them a heads up about their vehicle. Since they'll be afoot now, tell them to pull back up here and set up defensive positions right down there in front of us. Abby, let’s go get Neva to hook us up to the bridgehead and those companies at the O'Neal Bridge.”

As Abby passed, Therese eyed the stiletto strapped to the corporal’s thigh. She glanced up and caught Abby’s gaze; Abby winked.


	20. Your Move

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here is a map of the fields of battle as they appear in Chapter 19, thanks to my talented daughter and son-in-law.
> 
> I also included a map of the entire Spared Territory, as it would have appeared in Chapter 1.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As requested, Highlandgirl :-)

[](https://imgur.com/L2xeXIk)

[](https://imgur.com/A0WUPuA)

Location of the eight Slingshot tactical teams on the night of the fourth day. 

[](https://imgur.com/aUyTqfs)


	21. Death Under Moonlight

From the roof of the city hall building, Carol, Therese, and Abby could view the entire town, now bathed in moonlight. Therese cautioned, “Carol, we don’t need to linger up here. Some Colbert sniper with a night vision scope will make short work of us.”

“I hear you, Therese … just a minute or two more.” But she did have them kneel to their shoulders behind the old structure’s brick facade; it ran above the roofline proper about three feet. They heard the staccato of gunfire in the distance. Carol checked her watch, “It’s zero-one-thirty, ladies.”

They were surprised by the volume of fire. It ripped along the entire battle line from distant Muscle Shoals to well past downtown Sheffield. Tensed at first thinking the Colberts might attack everywhere at once, they soon realized the enemy doing nothing more than firing, not advancing, or even probing.

Carol and Therese shared knowing nods, so Abby asked, “What?”

Therese explained, “They want to keep the entire line hot… so we won’t be as likely to transfer troops back to the bridgehead.”

Abby sang in her best Carol King voice, “And it’s too late, baby now, it’s just too late …”

Carol and Therese lost it for a moment.

As sporadic fire along the front continued, the eastern horizon flared to life. The three women awed at the virtual fireworks show. Carol stated, “Those are Scooter’s star shells.” The sound of the explosions took half a minute to cover the six miles. Intensive machine gun and rifle fire accompanied by ground explosions drifted to their ears a minute later.

Therese scanned back to their own responsibility to find the same intermittent muzzle flashes and reports. She asked, “Carol, are you sure you don’t want to disperse our shooters in elements to support our infantry?”

“That’s right, Therese, let’s keep Bravo and Charlie intact and at the ready to respond to any sizeable breakthroughs. And you know any concentrated effort that successfully gets past the militia will come for our HQ, so I want Alpha right here … primed to respond to such a breach.”

They left Alpha’s squad marksman and her spotter to man the rooftop post; both were armed with Harry’s pride and joy, optically sighted 7.62mm LLSR-10s. While the Colberts’ industrial proficiency dwarfed that of Lauderdale, Ben Smith’s Lauderdale Loads Company had become the best weapons and ammunition manufacturing facility in the Spared Territory. Two to three Lauderdale Loads Slingshot Rifles road with each of the teams and armed a dozen squad marksmen militia elements as well.

Carol and her deadly duo wound their way down through the gruesome sounds and sights of the wounded and dying now filling their makeshift hospital. On the main floor, a runner handed Therese the squads' casualty reports. Therese read through the numbers and summarized to Carol, “Alpha has had two shooters killed and one wounded. Bravo, none killed but three wounded. Charlie’s the hardest hit with three killed and two wounded.”

Carol asked, “And the noncoms? Still just the one?

“Yes, Ma’am, Charlie’s Corporal Davis caught shrapnel from a grenade this afternoon.”

Carol softly inquired, “Is she in here?”

Abby acknowledged, “She is; I saw her on this floor earlier.”

“Take me to her, Abby.”

Therese interjected, “Carol, I should make the rounds.”

“Absolutely, Top. Be careful.”

“Of course. Hey, y’all give Mustang-Sally my best.”

Therese double-timed to confer with Schmitt at Alpha before sprinting the two blocks west to check on and buck up Sergeant Peeks at Charlie. She finished with a long jog over to Ringo and Rand at Bravo in the east, much closer to the line than any other Team 2 personnel.

On her way back to HQ, Therese noticed movement in the shadows of an alley. She knelt at the edge of a dumpster and observed. The dark image moved again an endless minute later. Instincts left her no doubt that the party was not her people. The moonlight suddenly unveiled the object of her attention. With sighting reticle squared on center-of-mass, Therese pressed the trigger. The figure jerked to slam into the bricks of the sheltering building, then crumbled. Therese performed a 360 scan. After finding no more threats, she eased forward to her victim. Wearing the black uniform of a Knight and armed with their favored AKM, a muzzle poke to the eye assured the man’s demise.

From behind, Peek shouted, “Top?”

Therese thundered, “We got leaks, people! Tighten up!” She proceeded to relieve the Colbert of his weapon, and ammo then continued on her way. She stopped by the mess tent to hand Pham the Colbert’s weapon and ammo. Pham nodded, wiped her hands on her apron, and grasped the AK. Without a word, she cleared the weapon and started a cursory inspection.

Therese returned to HQ to find Carol and Abby mesmerized by the flashes to the east. The crescendo from the bridgehead rolled for a nightmarish half hour.

Abby asked, “Do you think our reinforcements got there in time.”

Carol murmured, “Harry and the 8, yes, but there is no way those two infantry companies made it this fast.” She then turned to Therese and mentioned, “Angel, amongst all this firing, I thought I made out a shot from within our perimeter … and a shout.”

“You did … mine, Major. There is one less Knight in this world. They must’ve left a few sprinkled amongst their militias.”

The firing along the lines petered out after two.

At 02:35, Neva exited the city hall to report. Carol, Therese, and Abby joined hands tightly.

Neva beamed, “Carol, I’ve just got off the field phone with Ben Smith. They’ve held. The Colberts pulled back … at least for the time being.”

Carol swiped a single drop from her cheek and asked, “Losses?”

“I’m sorry… no detailed numbers yet, but Ben indicates they're heavy. The 8 and 5 made it there right after the Colberts’ assault began. Ben said they really made a difference as did the High Church Militia companies from O’Neal”

Shocked, Carol asked, “How did those foot soldiers get there that fast?”

“Well, that’s interesting; Colonel Aird showed up earlier with a mish-mash of vehicles driven by civilians he'd recruited. Thinking they were going to return with our dead and wounded from the day. Seeing the situation, they volunteered to fetch the marching High Church companies. But, Carol, Ben said Harge was killed while fighting on the eastern perimeter ... shortly after delivering the troops.”

Sobbing, Carol put her face in her hands. Therese gently squeezed her shoulder.

Abby proclaimed, “Harge, you exasperating son of a bitch! God rest your soul.”


	22. Shoot Out

“Therese, Abby, y’all wake up!” shouted Carol.

Therese had been in that deep sleep that accompanies exhaustion. Fuzzy headed, she glanced at her watch to discover that she had only slept for an hour. _No wonder!_ The distant din of battle imbued her to rise. Therese could see the light of dawn through Carol’s open tent flap. A glance outside found Carol talking to Neva.

Carol stepped back in with a cup of coffee for both of them. “Pham sent these over. It seems every one of these Sheffield houses has a canister of Ragland Roast in the kitchen. Oh, and she brought those sausage biscuits earlier.” She motioned to her desk. “Y’all best eat up. Neva just got off the phone with Harry, and he said it looks like the Raglands have committed all their reserves; they are under assault again, and he and Ben think we will get hit this morning as well.”

Famished, the two noncoms devoured their biscuits and coffee.

A few minutes later, Abby returned from the “potty” and urged them to do the same while she held down the fort. Carol and Therese darted over to the site of their lovemaking to use the facilities. As Therese splashed water on her face and dabbed it dry with one of the plush towels, she thought the house seemed different, and it wasn’t just the light of day. Therese realized it was because she and her friends might all die this day, and now the sumptuous city mansion was a cruel tease.

Carol had used the downstairs bathroom and was waiting for Therese. Carol assertively took Therese’s hands and pulled her close; their gently clutched fingers nestled between their breasts. They kissed. Carol had to break the dizzying softness, or they would have held it all day. She stepped back from Therese while still holding her hands and gazed into her eyes. Carol spoke, “I love you.”

Therese was stunned. _Tell her you love her._ “I—”

The horrifying sound of mortar fire caused them to go to the floor, flat on their bellies. A second later, the exploding shells walked across the city square with deafening explosions.

Carol screamed, “Where the fuck did they get those?”

After a moment and with no sound of a second salvo, they crawled to the open front door and checked the city hall and their HQ. They were relieved to see no immediate signs of any mortar strikes on those spots. Screams and shouts on the far side of the square brought both women to dash down the steps and sprint for Alpha’s area.

Cresting the rise, they spotted Abby at the side of a prostrate Corporal Blind. The mortar bomb’s impact crater was 30 feet or so to their right. Alpha’s medic soon took Abby’s place and freed her to return to Carol and Therese.

Heavy gunfire from the front and the shrill sound of militia whistles indicated they were under attack.

Harry’s engineers had run intricate field phone lines throughout the night. The phones buzzed. Therese, Carol, Abby, and Alpha’s Sergeant Schmitt ran to the com-tent beside Carol’s tent. Pretty soon, all four were on handsets talking to either their teams or their sector’s militia commanders.

Carol had them all hold for a minute and huddle. Carol asked, “Therese?”

“Bravo reports heavy fighting to their front, but it appears their militia company is holding.”

“Abby?”

“Charlie said the militia line to their front was not fairing as well; Peeks has already sent her marksmen forward to pick off Colberts that are working their way through the lines.

“Sergeant Schmitt?”

“East Lauderdale’s commander at the center of the line said they have killed scores of Colbert militia attacking from their front, but he is concerned about how many folks he has already lost … at least a dozen, Major.”

Carol was decisive, “Okay, I wanted to keep the teams together to provide fire at hot spots, but I believe we’ll have to move forward in elements and provide flexible support.”

Therese concurred, “Yes, Major, that would be best.”

Schmitt and Abby both nodded.

“Okay, then, Schmitt, go down and select your elements and send them forward to the center.”

“Yes, Major,” said Schmitt and departed.

“Therese, have Bravo do the same, and Abby, it seems like Charlie is already doing them out of necessity, so call Peek back and tell him to continue with my blessing.”

Carol had Major Fuqua on holding to her left flank. He had reported lighter activity a minute ago. When she returned to him, he confirmed the same. Fuqua advised, “Carol, I got your left flank. Don’t worry about us. You just hold our right.”

Schmitt ordered Alpha shooters Deb Romine and Judy Kelley to find a two or three-story building on Montgomery Avenue, position themselves on the roof, and fire on targets of opportunity attacking the East Lauderdale Militia’s center. They quickly chose a two-story office building, broke through the front door, and made their way to the top floor. They found a pull-down staircase under a roof hatch.

Once on the roof, they kept low and moved to the southern side of the building. There was only a low parapet, about two feet tall, for cover. They positioned themselves at the two southern corners of the building. They peeked over and saw enemy militiamen breaking through their lines of trenches and foxholes. 

Deb tried to rise and acquire a hold on a target. A rifle bullet shattered the top of the brick parapet a couple of feet to her left. She slid back down behind the wall and yelled to Judy, “Girl, did you see that?”

“Yep, and I heard the report too. It was a .50 cal!”

“One of their Barretts, no doubt!”

“I’d rather not die here, Deb.”

“Fuckin’ A, Jigglypuff, let’s get the hell off this pedestal.”

“After you.”

They crawled back to the open roof hatch and scurried back down the stairs to the ground floor. A few feet from the front door, they saw black uniforms dart by heading north.

“Shit, Deb, that’s Knights, and they’ve broken through the lines already! I’m gonna aim left and take those runners. You aim right and cover me.”

“Done.”

Deb sliced the pie at the doorjamb and employed two short bursts to gun down the two Knights. Judy caught four Colbert militiamen coming north up the street and had to use an entire magazine to put them all down as they either went prone on the road surface or tried to dodge for cover.

Deb looked back over her shoulder to see the results of Judy’s fire. “That was fuckin’ awesome, bitch!”

“You like that, girl?”

“Yep, but you better watch that ammo. Hell, what does that leave you, four mags?”

“Nope, three. Remember the Knight recon vehicle on Hatch yesterday evening?”

“Oh, yeah, I forgot.”

“How much you got, Deb?”

As she tactically swapped out her partial for a full magazine in her M16A4, Deb answered, five and a half.”

Judy glanced around performing a broken 180 of their world and then gazed at Deb. “Whatcha think?”

After performing the same assessment, Deb replied, “This doorway is pretty solid ... brick and mortar. How ‘bout you stay here and I’ll ditty bop across the street to that green doorway and pull the same stance. We’ll both concentrate on the south, but keep our third eye on our six in case they flank around.”

“I like it, Cherry Delight, but how ‘bout I cross the street?”

“Cherry Delight? That’s a new one. Where’d you come up with that?”

Judy nodded her head to what was obviously a receptionist’s desk a few feet from the building’s entrance. Deb glanced at the desk. Questioning for a moment, she finally zeroed-in on a black and red, half-empty bottle of Colbert Soda. She read, Cherry Delight.”

Deb chuckled, smirked at Judy, and commanded, “Fine! Get on outta here!”

Judy crouched for the sprint, took another look each way, and as Deb covered south, Judy undertook the 100-foot-dash across Sheffield’s main thoroughfare. About halfway across, they heard the sonic crack of another Barrett round. This was followed by the combined sounds of its distant muzzle blast to the south and the whine of its ricochet off the street just north of their position.

Judy dove into the opposite doorway and pressed her back against the door for maximum cover. She pulled off her faded Cubs cap and whisked her hand through her dirty-blonde mohawk. She put the cap back on and yelled, “That goddamn motherfucker! I felt the breeze off that one!”

Deb tried to laugh at the reaction, but she was just too overcome with relief. She gave her girlfriend a sweet smile and hunkered down on her rifle to await the next target of opportunity.

Multiple breakthroughs were overwhelming Carol’s right. The command element had lost contact with Charlie. Carol could tell from the sound of the weapons in the west that Charlie was heavily engaged. She was very concerned about their supply of ammunition. “We need to go help Charlie, but with Alpha committed, HQ and the hospital will be left wide open.”

“No, Major, they won’t.”

Carol, Abby, and Therese turned to find Pham, his cooks, Harry’s communication techs, and her three Team 2 mechanics all armed.

“Pham?”

“We got this, Major. We’ll stake out an inside perimeter on this square and hold it.”

Therese and Abby shot thumbs-ups to Carol, then she ordered, “Okay, Pham, take it. Ladies, let’s go kick some Colbert ass.”

They caught up with Sergeant Peeks near the daunting Thompson Industrial Complex. Peeks reported, “Major, the militia seems to be holding upfront. I’ll be damned if these bastards aren’t slipping behind our lines from this factory.”

Therese suggested, “Carol, I bet they’ve got a tunnel running from the factory under the tracks … probably connecting to their Tuscumbia facility across the way.”

Carol blurted, “We need to get in there and seal it off.”

Peeks said, “We’ve got two satchel charges in my Humvee.”

Therese asked Peeks, “How many folks have you got left?”

“I hate to admit this, but I’m not sure. I dispersed them in sniper’s hides across this part of the line; they’re busy helping the militia keep that frontal assault at bay.”

Peeks warned, “Heads up, gals. See what I was telling you, here comes another cluster of those fuckers from out of that factory.”

A dozen Colbert soldiers slipped out of the factory and split into two groups.

Carol ordered, “Therese, you and Abby get the ones breaking left. Peeks, let’s take the right.”

For cover, they had crouched behind the ruins of the foundation of some long-gone Sheffield business. Constructed of concrete blocks, it made excellent cover. Therese and Abby picked off all of their targets easily enough, but Peeks and Carol’s gaggle had spotted the Lauderdales and started returning fire. Carol and Peeks silenced their assignment, but the distractive incoming fire caused them to expend far more ammo than they intended. 

Earlier, Therese and Abby distributed four of their spare magazines among the squads. Peeks had used the balance of her ammo on prior intruders from the factory. A quick ammo count confirmed the four women only had the partially full magazines in their M4s and Carol’s two full thirty round spares. Carol swapped out her partial for one of her spares, then insisted the others top off their partials with her other full spare and partial. Peeks had a single hand grenade.

Peeks quickly retrieved the explosives, and they were off. After carefully entering the factory, they stopped to listen. They heard voices on the far side of a veritable maze of massive milling machines, lathes, and presses. Using hand signals, they advanced. The four wound through the steel jungle. Automatic fire tore around them from in front. Peeks had a clear shot and took it, silencing the threat, but another burst from their left ricocheted rounds all around them, and Peeks went down with a shoulder wound. Peeks tossed the hand grenade to Therese, who pulled the pin and lobbed the grenade above the intervening equipment to land at the source of the incoming fire. The ear-ringing explosion did the job.

Carol applied a field dressing to her Charlie leader’s wound. Peeks ejected her M4 magazine and handed it to Carol. Peeks drew her pistol and said, “I’ll be fine, y’all plug that tunnel.

Carol passed the spare to Therese. Therese inserted it into one of the pouches of her mag carrier. Therese crept on, followed by Carol and Abby, each carrying one of the heavy charges. Seconds later, they heard the resounding booms of the Colbert militia’s black powder rifles. The big, lead bullets flew at them from all sides. Therese, Abby, and Carol rolled, crawled, and fired. The enemy paid dearly with blood and screams, but they were determined to keep their gateway open at all costs.

Abby arose to her knees and caught a clear path for her fire, aimed, and waited. A head popped up in her field of view, and she fired. She knew that was a kill, but as she returned to the floor, she saw her bolt was locked back. She snapped her fingers to get Carol and Therese’s attention. “I’m out.” She pulled off her rifle sling and let the weapon ease to the floor. Abby drew her handgun and the explosive and resumed following Therese.

They reached an aisle. On the other side were large wooden crates, obviously completed inventory, ready to be shipped. Stacked three high, they arose to eight feet. Carol directed Abby to holster her sidearm, take both charges, and then prepare to cross the aisle to the crates with cover fire from Therese and Carol. It would cost several rounds, but they had no better option. Therese and Carol went prone and in smooth, quick motions, moved to the corner of the milling machines, and fired in both directions. Abby darted across the aisle, but a bullet struck her leg. The sulfurous smoke from the black powder weapons lingered in the dead air like an acrid cloud. Abby scooted with her good leg to one of the crates and pressed her back flat against it. Tears of pain streaked her blackened face.

Carol was out of rifle ammo. She slipped out of her sling and drew her handgun as well. Therese had been shooting the most and inflicting the most damage; thus, he had to insert her spare mag a ways back. She figured there were just a few rounds left in her M4. Therese signaled for them to stand, back up a bit, and then take the aisle at full sprint, firing to their respective flanks as they crossed. It worked, and neither was hit. Unfortunately, Therese’s carbine was empty.

Carol covered while Therese saw to Abby’s leg. The round lead ball had passed clean through the back of the leg, side to side, but it was well clear of the femoral artery.

The enemy’s voices chimed, taunted, and teased from the depths of the echo chamber.

“Hey, Slingshot girlie girl. We gonna getcha!”

“I got my skinning knife ready for you Lauderdale bitches.”

“Y’all wanna talk trade. I’d love some of that Slingshot ass.”

Therese removed her M4, separated the rifle sling from the weapon, then pulled her knife. She cut a strap from the sling and used it to make a tourniquet. She pulled it high and tight and wrapped Abby’s weak hand around the end. Therese, then whispered, “Keep that up tight against your pussy, ‘Girlie Girl.’” It worked. Abby’s panicky fear changed to abject anger. Therese pulled Abby’s pistol, and press checked it to get winked at by the gleaming round in the chamber. Abby took it in her strong hand. Therese reached to retrieve her knife resting on Abby’s thigh, but her sweaty, bloody fingers fumbled and the edged weapon danced through the large drainage grate upon which Abby sat.

Abby whispered, “Take mine.”

“No, I’ll be okay. If you’re close enough to stick ‘em, you're close enough to shoot ‘em, right, sweetheart.”

Carol and Therese left Abby and carried the satchel charges to the end of the stacked crates. Therese peeked around the edge and saw what must be the tunnel entrance. That was instantly confirmed by the appearance of a head and shoulders easing up the stairs. The soldier saw Therese, but before he could react, she shot him in the face with her .45. There must have been others behind him as it caused quite the commotion down in their den.

Carol and Therese pulled the igniters from the ends of their charge’s fuses. If they threw them too quickly, the Colberts might throw them back out. They waited.

Carol whispered, “Geez! Therese, another few seconds, and we’ll be paint on the ceiling.

Therese laughed and gazed into her eyes. She whispered, “I love you.”

Carol was now the shocked one. Therese pulled Carol's charge from her grasp and commanded, “Cover me, empty your pistol down in that stairwell: angle them off the wall to go down deep and bounce around. Ready?”

“Ready.”

“Shoot.”

Carol leaned out just enough to put her sights on the spot Therese requested. The fifteen rounds were gone in seconds. She pulled back and headed for Abby.

Therese swung the deadly gifts in tandem to ark up and down the stairwell. Then she raced to join her friends.

They hugged each other into a ball and pressed their palms tightly over their ears, then closed their eyes.

The concussion knocked them apart and threw them into the aisle. That was fortuitous as some of the crates must have been empty; they tumbled down right on top of the spot where they had been.

Carol was unconscious for a moment. As she regained clarity, a monster of a man towered over her. Abby lay stunned at her side. They had both lost their pistols in the melee. The beast had to stand at least six and a half feet tall and weigh every bit of 300 pounds. Abby pulled her dagger and presented the business end to their threat. Laughing, he raised his single-shot rifle like a giant club with his big pudgy hands' death-gripping the barrel.

Carol was trying to move, but the side of one of the shattered crates pinned her legs. She glanced up and detected movement above the man. It was her Angel as if flung out of space, leaping from the top of the opposite row of crates.

Therese landed on the man’s shoulders with her legs straddling his neck. She wrapped her arms around his head, locked them like a vise, and gave a mighty twist. His big neck snapped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ ](https://imgur.com/QInoolN)
> 
> [](https://imgur.com/mMUsDAw)  
>   
> 


	23. "I'm So Fucking Excited!"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [ ](https://imgur.com/Fl9WwBS)
> 
> [](https://imgur.com/0Wo4i07)  
> 

Midmorning, the Colberts, shot to pieces and near collapse with exhaustion, abandoned their battle line, and not just at Sheffield. Neva received verification that this disengagement was happening in entirety from east to west.

Therese kissed Abby on the cheek as Deb and Judy lifted Abby Dabby Do's stretcher and carefully loaded her on an ambulance truck. With Sergeant Peeks and a half-dozen other wounded, Abby would suffer a lengthy and bumpy circuitous ride back to the bridgehead, across the singing River Bridge, and then across Florence to the hospital. 

Abby called out from the truck bed, “Therese, take care of her.”

“I will, Abby … I promise.”

A runner handed Therese casualty reports from her actual and acting squad leaders. She glanced at them, sighed, and pocketed them as she walked to Carol’s tent. The city hall was so crammed with injured, a doctor and nurse chose to treat Carol’s injuries in her tent.

Carol, numbed by a local and two shots of her moonshine, seemed to be enjoying watching the surgeon adeptly slip his needle and thread along the three-inch laceration on Carol’s thigh. She glanced up and saw Therese. “Hey, Top, this is going to lower my stock during tanning season, huh.”

The nurse scolded, “Major, that’s not true, Dr. Wade is the best. The scar will heal well and be hardly noticeable. “

The old doctor said nothing. He just nodded and stayed focused.

Therese winked at Carol and strode over to one of Pham’s tables to plop down in a chair. She turned another around and put her feet on it. Pham walked over and placed a mug of coffee on the table.

“Can I get you something to eat, Top-rese?”

Therese shook her head and chuckled at the silly tag, then she replied, “No, Pham, I’m good… thanks for the Jo.”

Pham started to return to her field kitchen, but Therese caused her to pause, “Pham, I heard you put that AK to good use.”

“Yeah, Top, that was like the old days. I carried one of those in the Three Day War.”

“Shit, no kiddin’ … did y’all lose anybody up here?”

“No, Top, not a one … every time some fucking Colbert got up this far, we hosed ‘em down. We should be proud, Therese, between the soldiers on the line and our girls, very few got this far.”

“Well, I am proud, but nonetheless, thank you.”

“Sure thing, Top.”

Therese nodded off for a quarter-hour. Neva awoke her with the gentle squeeze of her arm. Therese blinked awake and was most concerned to see tears running down Neva’s cheeks. Neva went to her knees beside Therese and now squeezed her arm with both hands. She beamed, “Therese, I just talked to Ben at the bridgehead. The Raglands sent an envoy a little while ago, a Montjoy from Leighton, and he told Harry and Ben that the field was ours.”

“What, they’ve surrendered?”

“Well yes, but not formally. They requested to meet with Harry, and anyone else he deemed necessary, at the bridgehead tomorrow morning at ten. They said to request the terms of their surrender.“

Therese dropped her feet to the ground and sat in silenced disbelief.

Neva shook her and wailed, “Holy shit, Therese, isn’t that fucking great?”

Therese focused and began to cry, “Yeah, Neva, that is fucking great.”

“Should we go tell Carol?”

“Yes … well, in a minute. Let’s let them finish stitching her up.”

“Okay .. Goddamn, I’m so fucking excited; we can go home.”

‘‘Oh yeah, ‘Home’ …”


	24. Passings

“Good morning, Angel, I hope you slept well.”

“Pretty well … lot’s of dreams.”

“Oh … yes, me too.”

Sheltered from view in Carol’s tent, Therese leaned over and kissed her seated commander.

“Oh my God, I need one of those every morning,” cooed Carol.

Therese blushed and smiled.

“You look sharp, Top.”

“As do you, Major. Are you sure it’s okay for me to attend this surrender meeting?”

“Absolutely … one, Harry requested that you accompany me, and two, I need a driver with my Abby in hospital.”

Therese squeezed Carol’s shoulder.

Carol sighed with eyes closed then directed Therese’s attention to the typed pages on her desk. “This is the detailed casualty report. The first pages are KIA, then the wounded and MIAs follow… names, unit, and the sector of their demise.”

Carol had the advantage of having read over them at length. She wondered aloud, “I didn’t know Captain Falstaff had any living kin … there is a Robby Falstaff listed… killed at the bridgehead.” She presented a page and pointed to the line in question.

“Oh, no. That sweet boy, uh, I met him at Phillipa’s the other night. He was a thirteen-year-old orphan that the 8 had taken in as … I guess you might say a trainee. He had no legal last name, but 1911 told me he was a ward of Captain Falstaff until the Captain’s health failed.”

“That’s precious that Harry anointed him with a last name.”

“Hey, this format is new. What does the number ‘15’ by his name mean?“

“Let me check the addendum. Oh, here, 15, ‘Robby Falstaff - posthumously awarded the Lauderdale Council Medal of Honor for his single-handed assault on the Tuscumbia Junior Knights. Said attack resulted in the death of Colbert Constable Danny Ragland.”

“I heard the Constable was dead. My goodness, Robby.”

“I don’t see Harge.”

“Really? Oh, here’s Colonel Aird. There is a page for officers.”

“Hmm, I don’t know if I ever loved him. It was just one of those gentry things … two kids that seemed to be perfect together in the eyes of everyone's but their own. But I did love him as Rindy’s father; he was very good to her. You couldn’t ask for a better daddy.”

“Does she know?”

“No, Daddy called and told me they were keeping the information from her until I can be there. I want to tell her … I have to be the one to tell her. Daddy and Momma are bringing her to Florence tomorrow. I’m going to meet them at my Aunt Betty’s house for lunch.”

“Oh, that’s good. She’s four?”

“That’s right … maybe it’s best she is so young.”

Therese reached for the next page, but Carol grasped her hand. “No, wait, Angel, pull up that stool.”

Therese did and perched facing Carol, who had turned her chair.

Therese, Abby told me that you dated and were even engaged to a fellow after you graduated from Smith.

“That’s right, Richard Semco … oh, dear!”

“I’m afraid so, darling,” Carol confirmed and pointed out his name. “He was with the West Lauderdale?”

“He was.”

Uninterrupted, they spent the better part of an hour reading the names and commenting on friends and acquaintances lost, wounded, and missing. Carol had to retrieve a few extra handkerchiefs from her bags.

Carol looked at her watch and noted, “It’s ten-to-nine, Angel. We better get ready to head over. Are Ringo and Schmitt good to go in charge here during our absence?”

“Yes, Ma’am, but I’ll check with them again and meet you at your vehicle.”

“Sounds good, Top.”


	25. The War of Reunification

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter may seem a bit stilted at times, but I purposely sought to catch the feel of The Bard. Folks, _Slingshot 2_ and my self-published novel, _Slingshot 8_ , are retellings of William Shakespeare's _Henry V_.

It was a beautiful November day. A Saturday, clear and cold, but not windy, one couldn’t wish for a better day for such a meeting.

The Lauderdale contingent consisted of:

Lauderdale President Henry Wade Smith V

Harry’s uncle, Benjamin Smith, the Florence District Leader and Overall Commander of the Lauderdale Militia

Ben’s daughter, Captain Clara Smith, Slingshot 5 Commander accompanied by Sergeant Phil McElroy

Harry’s uncle, David Smith, West Lauderdale District Leader

Harry’s uncle, Clifford Hayes, Northeast Lauderdale District Leader

Clifford’s son, Peter Hayes, Southeast Lauderdale District Leader

Colonel Phillip Goins, Commander of Slingshot 1 and the North Wall Defense Command

Phil’s daughter, Major Carol Aird, Slingshot 2 Commander accompanied by Sergeant Therese Belivet

Major William Fuqua, Slingshot 4 Commander accompanied by his daughter, Nurse/Sergeant Rachel Black

Reverends; Eli Stram, Low Church, and Arthur Canterbury, High Church

The distantly located Slingshot commanders were not in attendance. They stayed with their commands. Harry did not want all the eggs in one basket.

The Lauderdales walked through a freshly cut gap in the bridgehead perimeter’s earthen mounds and made their way to the Colberts' big white tent.

Carol, walking arm-in-arm with her father, leaned close to his ear and whispered, “Daddy, I’m surprised it’s not black, but I guess they had to run out of that dye at some point, given all the badass Knight uniforms.”

Colonel Goins squeezed her arm with his to punish her for her bad form, but a sheepish grin revealed his amusement.

Jenny Hart watched from a firing port in the breastwork. She fixed on the departing party until they neared their destination. Then, Jenny turned, cleared her M4, slung it over her shoulder, and stepped down from the bloody walls towards the center of the bridgehead. There, 1911 was waiting with the engine running in the last functional Slingshot vehicle extant at the Singing River Bridge, Slingshot 7’s Humvee. He had orders to drive Jenny Hart to Smith Lodge. There the staff had been notified that they were to spoil her rotten. Harry had ordered her to relax and enjoy some tranquility, a time of letting go. Jenny Hart took it as a joyless assignment, another at which to work and master. The idea of “letting go” of anything was a stranger to her.

As the Lauderdales entered the tent, they passed through a wind-breaking canvas foyer possessed of large flaps at both ends. Upon exiting the tunnel, they found two sets of folding chairs facing one another. An aisle ran down the middle, akin to a prayer meeting save for the fact that the chairs did not face the front. There was not a table or a podium. President Charles Ragland and his wife, Isabel Ragland, were standing to the tent's left, just beyond the chairs. Behind them was their son, Edward Ragland; he was sitting in a wheelchair with his legs heavily bandaged. His sister, Catherine Ragland, stood to his left, and industrialist Pickard Thompson and financier Midge Burkett to his right. Standing in the back, the Reverends Donnie Butler and Thomas Utter completed the Colbert assembly, Low and High Church, respectively. Neither side was armed.

The Colberts' envoy Johnny Montjoy stood in the center of the aisle. He gestured for the Lauderdales to come forward and stand opposite the Colberts. A devotee of situational awareness, Harry glanced to his right and left. He noticed a man standing behind the chairs on the left. A second look brought recognition. It was Clement Applewhite, a successful farmer and influential Colbert citizen from the Leighton community. Harry knew Mr. Applewhite from The Peace as he had been a friend and business associate of his father, Wade Smith. Applewhite was one of the few that called himself a friend to both Charles Ragland and Wade Smith. He was a hardworking and learned gentleman known of great character.

The attendees’ dress was casual and warm to match the 38-degree temperature with the warriors present still wearing uniforms.

After the Lauderdales gathered in the front facing the Colberts, Montjoy began, “President Smith, the Ragland family has asked Mr. Applewhite to serve as a mediator of these proceedings. Does that meet with your approval?”

Harry’s eyes met the old friend of his father’s and they exchanged nods of recognition. With little hesitation, Harry said, “I will be honored to have Mr. Applewhite serve in that capacity.”

Montjoy said to Harry, “Thank you, Mr. President.” Then he turned and said, “Mr. Applewhite, would you come forward and lead us in the task at hand?”

The old man strode forward and loudly stated, “It will be my pleasure, Mr. Montjoy.” Upon reaching Johnny Montjoy, he shook hands with him. As on cue, Johnny moved to the rear of the Colbert contingent.

The mediator began, “With all due respect to the four clergymen in attendance, I will ask the Lord’s blessing from my position of self-imposed neutrality. Let us pray. Our heavenly Father, God in Heaven, we humbly ask that You bring peace and love to this gathering and guide our negotiations to a reasonable and just conclusion. Please be with the souls of the recently and tragically departed soldiers and civilians whose earthly vestiges lay cast about these very fields and streets. Amen.”

Those present raised their eyes to exchange child-like, anxious glances at their opposites. Harry purposely avoided Catherine’s, and Catherine avoided his. 

“My heart soars to see you rulers, Colbert and Lauderdale, come together at last. Why can’t blessed peace come to our land — the last home of humanity? She has been chased for too long. Instead of raising our children in joy, happiness, and enlightenment; toiling for abundance in our fields, and driving our industry towards progress and earthly comfort; for most of these seven decades, we have instead maintained an air of savagery, as soldiers, meditating on nothing but blood, full of swearing and stern looks, to the point when all seems... unnatural. Why can’t blessed peace finally visit us with her gentler qualities?” Applewhite pointedly looked at Harry.

While Harry carefully avoided eye contact with Catherine, he tried to measure the intentions of both Charles and Edward Ragland with mutual visual exchanges lasting pregnant seconds. Edward Ragland was still angry but now wounded in battle, he sat disillusioned and beaten while his father seemed to be drifting with age, fatigue, and fear. Finally, Harry spoke, “If the Ragland family wants the marvelous peace you describe, Mr. Applewhite, they must buy it with full accord to our just demands.”

The Lauderdales' eyebrows went up as the Colberts' fell.

Applewhite, expecting such, looked to Charles Ragland as a straight-laced older brother might gaze at his misbehaving younger sibling.

Somewhere in his mind, an assistant slapped the side of Charles’s skull, just enough to force a reasonable state of reality to the Colbert ruler of forty-five years. “Harry, I’ve only glanced at your advance articles. Would you appoint some of your council to sit with us and fully discuss the details and ramifications of the treaty as submitted? I am quite optimistic that upon complete explanation, we will pass our acceptance and provide the positive answer you seek.”

Applewhite moved with vigor, “Very well, then. Let’s all have a seat and discuss these articles.”

Harry was humbled. He had not expected such at this juncture. He finally glanced at Catherine and saw her watering eyes. Recovering, he said, “That’s fine, Mr. Ragland, but I must insist that I leave my entrusted friends and family to assist you and your council while I take your leave for a half-hour or so.”

Surprised and confused, the factions shot glances across the tent.

Harry noticed and regretted his misperceived dismissal was taken as an insult, “Oh, I’m sorry to cause y’all such angst. Let me clarify, I ask, not only that you excuse me but also Catherine Ragland. If I had such power and guile, I would have included her hand as the articles' capital demand. As such, I humbly ask that she suffer my company, alone, for a few minutes. What do you say, President Ragland?” Harry shifted to the daughter, “Catherine?”

Father and beloved daughter shared shrugs and sighs, and then Catherine said, “Okay, Harry, I’ll talk with you. Daddy, are you okay with that?”

“Very well. Where are y’all gonna be?”

Harry interjected, “Just outside, sir, we’ll take a short walk. I tell you what, let two non-family members from each principality accompany us.”

Charles nodded in agreement and sighed, “Fine… Johnny Montjoy will be enough for me; I need everyone else at the table.”

Harry turned to Carol and Therese, “Team 2, will you be so understanding as to accompany Miss Catherine and me?”

Carol answered, “Of course, Harry.”

As Harry and Catherine departed the tent, both were visibly apprehensive. The three chaperones followed; the couple did not seem to mind them being within earshot.

1911 had managed to salvage Harry’s only clean uniform from the remains of Slingshot 8’s Humvee. Harry had the lone Slingshot jacket, and its appearance reflected his activities of the past few days. A cursory glance would find oil stains, dried mud, and blood. He chose to leave the coat at his command tent and suffer both the cold and the somewhat bland khaki attire. However, the young president would have had to really work at being unattractive. Even the Slingshot 2 girls did double-takes when their president came around. He had shaved and raced through a tepid field shower, while Mort knocked the dirt from his boots.

Catherine was quite the contrast. She had changed from her Black Force uniform to civilian attire. When getting ready earlier, she thought, _It is over. Further fighting is futile and stupid._ For the first time in a public appearance, Catherine skipped makeup; a natural beauty, she didn’t really need it, plus the wind and emotion of the day gave her some color. Ever the lady, she wore her long blonde hair up under a tan fedora that matched the color of her tall riding boots. They sported lacing-detail up the backs. One of Mr. Thompson’s dye-line workers must have had a good day with the walnut as her winter-weight skirt looked like chocolate. It ended below her knees, where the tops of her boots stopped. A beige turtleneck sweater accentuated her long, thin neck, and a string of aged OW pearls peeked out at the margins of her black leather coat’s lapels.

Both sides had worked diligently the afternoon before and earlier that morning to remove the dead from the field, but evidence of the preceding days’ slaughter abounded. Harry tried to gently take her arm and guide Catherine in the least bloody direction.

She pulled her arm away and took a path of her choosing. “Don’t worry about it. I have been seeing your slaughter for two days.”

He wanted to defend himself, but he had no real defense.

She looked at him fumbling for response and curtly asked, “What do you want, Harry?”

“What do you think I want, Catherine?”

“That crack in there was either a bad joke, bad taste, or if serious, outrageous.”

“Why outrageous?”

“Are you serious, Harry Smith, you meant that?

“Well, it’s what I want.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me. We haven’t seen each other since we were kids, and you want to marry me?”

“But I—”

“‘But’ nothing, ‘Mr. President!’” She turned away and continued, now addressing the vacant southern horizon, “Oh, I see. You’re so obsessed with your own power and revenge; you would force my marriage to you, cementing your control of the entire ST. For the first time in post-pandemic history, the joint ascendancies would become one … a single bloodline ruling the entire Spared Territory. Yes, Edward is my twin brother, but it was administratively witnessed and recorded that I am the firstborn by ten minutes … ten fucking minutes, Harry. The Spared Territory’s Rules of Ascendency do not specify the first-born son, simply, the firstborn. Only a handful of people were privy to this knowledge, and only four of those are still living: my parents, my brother, and Reverend Ut—”

“And, me, Cate!”

“‘Cate’? Only my clos—”

Harry grabbed her shoulders and gently rotated her back to face him, “Shhh! Hush, Cate! May I speak... for just a moment?” A tear glided down her left cheek betraying the damage to her feelings and pride. She stood tensely with her arms tightly crossed. Harry gently intercepted the drop with his right thumb and massaged it between his index finger and thumb, watching until it evaporated from the friction and cold wind. “Your father told mine about it during that lazy, wonderful summer vacation at Smith Lodge. The shared secret bound them to keep us apart. My father told me about the secret, and their conspiracy years later, with a sense of guilt, I might add.” After a pause, he turned his eyes back to hers, and continued, “I was close to you once, Catherine. I called you ‘Cate.’ You didn’t seem to mind then. As a matter of fact, it made you smile and scrunch-up your nose.”

She laughed and began to cry at the same time.

“There it is”—he whispered—“there’s that cute nose. I fell asleep many a night and woke many a morning seeing it in my mind. That memory has never faded, Miss Catherine.”

“‘Cate’, is fine, Harry.” 

He leaned in and kissed her. She did not back away, but pressed in and wrapped her arms around his neck. They swam in the kiss and embrace, escaping the horrors of their mean little world and sank dizzyingly into a pool of renewed passion and love.

She finally broke the kiss and looked into his eyes.

Harry urged, “Take me, Cate. Take a soldier. Take a soldier. Take a president. Say yes, my love.”

She pondered and then her expression fell back into sadness, “Is it possible that I can love the enemy of Colbert … marry him and bear his children?”

“No, Cate. It’s not, but in loving me, you would love a friend of Colbert because I love it so much, I won’t part with a single crossroads, township, or city of it. I am a citizen of the Spared Territory and will see it united once and for all. I firmly believe that the Territory will not survive our future trials unless we unite as a single people.”

She smiled and pulled him in for another long, tender kiss.

Therese and Carol subtly held hands.

They had heard some elevated voices from the tent, but now, for the first time a bit of subdued laughter.

Harry broke the kiss this time and, displaying the smile that Cate remembered so well, said, “You have witchcraft in your lips, Cate Ragland. There is more eloquence in the sugar touch of them than in all the waggin’ tongues of our respective councils.”

Her eyes sparkled, and Harry asked, “Will you marry me, Cate?”

She turned serious and with a slightly embarrassed expression said, “Now, Harry, I must tell you. I haven’t spent the last dozen years pining away for you. There have been a few other men in my life.”

Harry’s heart broke a little once again, just like it did each time Cheetah tapped in a coded message reporting the strategically important identity of the latest suitor to the future Colbert President.

Harry countered, “Well, darlin’ I’ve kept company with a gal or two along the way myself.”

“Yeah, Harry Smith, I’ve heard. Gal or two, my—”

“Aw, now, Miss Catherine, let’s not dwell on the past. It’s time to move forward.”

“Fine, I’ll marry you, Mr. President. If nothing else, it is our best hope for peace. I do believe we can make it something special. Don’t you, Harry?”

“Absolutely, Cate. Very special.”

A few minutes later, Ben Smith appeared at the tent’s entrance and waved Harry, Catherine, and the escorts back in. As they walked back into the canvas council chamber, they both perceived an air of optimism and sheer relief the likes of which none ever thought possible other than in their dreams.

Charles stood with his arm around his beloved Isabel. He addressed the Lauderdale President, “Harry, we have consented to all terms of reason. Most notably, I will abdicate the presidency to Catherine, and we will carefully begin the removal of explosive charges from Wilson Dam. I’m a tired old man, Harry. This killing has to stop.”

Charles and Harry signed the treaty.

Before the ink was dry, Harry asked, “Mr. Charles, President Catherine Ragland has consented to marry me. May we have your blessing?”

Charles replied, “I always knew this would come to pass. Hell, I feared it, but not anymore. Yes, Harry and Catherine, y’all have my blessing.”

Isabel, in another moment of clarity, said, “Why, Little Charles, this is so exciting. We’re going to have a grand marriage of state!”

Catherine went and hugged her mother, “Momma, I hate to disappoint you, sweetie, but we aren’t. Well, not the ‘grand’ part.” Next, Catherine surprised everyone, including Harry, after turning to Reverend Utter and asking, “My dear Reverend Utter, please marry us.”

The High Church preacher quickly smiled and complied, “Of course, I am honored.”

He stood sharing grins all about.

Catherine, grasping Harry’s hand tightly, had not altered her gaze on her High Church leader. She repeated, a bit louder this time, “My dear Reverend Utter, please marry President Smith and me. Now!”

“Oh, now! You mean, right now?” He laughed as did most of the others present, and he said, “Of course, right away.”

Isabel impulsively strode over and hugged Harry’s neck, saying, “Be good to my little girl, Lauderdale.”

Harry replied, “I will Mrs. Ragland. Oh, and by the way, since we cheated ya’ out of a big, fancy wedding of state, we’ll throw a Hell of a celebration in a couple of weeks.” He looked back at Catherine and asked, “First, we have some work to do, right, Cate?”

“Yes, a lot of work, Harry Smith, but we’ll find some time for us. We’ll make the time.”

Reverend Utter moved to the center of the aisle and asked the two councils to turn their respective chairs facing front. “Here, let’s make a proper church out of this place. Uh oh, I don’t have a Bible with me. Brother Donnie, may I borrow yours?”

The other three church leaders shared the joke at Utter’s expense as Butler handed him his Bible with a cautionary note, “Now, Thomas, it’s the King James version.”

Wounded but not down, Reverend Utter said, “Oh, thank you, Brother Donnie, I’ll manage.”

A few moments later, Charles Edward Ragland VI clasped together Catherine and Harry's hands. He looked at her lovingly and said, “From your blood, Catherine Isabel Ragland” — he turned with a smile for Harry — “and Henry Wade Smith V, bring forth progeny to unite Colbert and Lauderdale for once and for all. May this union cease hatred in the Spared Territory and bring accord to the known world. We pray that war will never return.”

Charles released their hands and stepped back. He beamed, “Reverend Utter?”


	26. At the Cottage by the Creek

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [](https://imgur.com/GLXhJJO)   
> 

Ringo and Schmitt had insisted that Therese and Carol take a couple of days leave. It had been a week since the treaty was signed, and the Reunification was going smoothly. The 2’s commanders waved goodbye to the two grinning noncoms at nine on the partly cloudy Saturday morning. An early snow had not melted as of yet.

A combined engineering operation between Colbert and Lauderdale had made the old O’Neal Bridge safe for single lane traffic. Their straight shot from Sheffield to Florence was so simple and fast; they couldn’t help but think of all the wasted years of hate, violence, and inefficiency.

Their first stop was the Florence Hospital to visit Abby. They had not been able to give her a heads up, so they wondered how she would take the drop in. Abby cried with joy when they walked in. They gave her big hugs and a giant get-well card signed by all of Team 2; Pham outdid herself with the flowers painted on the face of the card. There were no flowers to be found this time of year.

Abby joked, “God y’all look great, and in your civvies nonetheless… jeans, sweaters, and suede jackets … and makeup. Damn! Y’all look good enough to eat. Hah! Speakin’ of eating, I’ve been trying to figure out who a girl’s gotta fuck around here to get a decent meal … uh, but if it’s Nurse Rached out there, it ain’t happening.”

Carol shushed her, “Abby, not so loud, she’ll hear you.”

Therese was trying to stifle laughter.

Abby exclaimed even louder, “I don’t care if she does hear me … listen, boss, ya gotta get me outta here … Whatdayah say, Top-rese, noncom to noncom, help me out. Where’s yer gun?”

Carol tried to stay stern, “Now, Abby, I’ve talked to your doctor, and he’s very concerned about you getting an infection from that nasty old lead ball they shot through your leg. You know those are greased with animal fat. Just be patient and good and let them heal you.”

“Carol, you are so wise … it makes me fuckin’ sick.”

They all laughed.

They visited until the staff started giving them “you’ve been here too long” looks. As they said their goodbyes, Therese whispered, “Abby, this Colbert chocolate is supposed to be for Rindy, but I have two bars, and one is probably all the sugar she needs, so here ya go.”

Abby gasped and mouthed a silent scream accompanied by arms flailing wildly. Therese leaned in to hug her, but Abby planted a big kiss on her lips and said, “Love ya, Top! Hey, keep those bitches straight back at the 2.”

Carol leaned in, and cheek-kissed Abby, then hugged her. Abby delayed the release of the hug and whispered in Carol’s ear, “Major Hottie, y’all have somethin’ special, don’t let her get away.”

Carol blinked away a tear and nodded.

After locating Sergeant Peeks and being joyed to find her doing well, they drove the fifteen miles out to Cloverdale and the Goins home. Therese had never met Rindy; she hoped the little brunette would like her.

The Goins had both met Therese before, but not as a girlfriend of their daughter. They were all thrilled with Therese. Therese and Rindy managed to find enough snow along the shady west side of their house to roll up snowballs for a tiny snowman. Rindy ran back in the house and emerged with some of “Nannie’s” sewing buttons and scraps of cloth. They made quite the dapper little figure out of the foot tall snowman.

Carol watched from the living room window with her parents at her sides; their arms hugged each other’s waists or shoulders.

Her mother, Garner, said, “Carol, she’s a doll. It’s hard to believe what a …”

“Stone cold killer she can be?”

“Carol! That’s not what I was going to say.”

“But it’s true, Momma.”

“There, there, you two,” scolded Phil. “She’s a special soldier … a rare commodity. She can turn that side off and on like a light switch, right, Carol?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Don’t you worry about that, honey. I’ve known … not many … but a few like that over the years. Hey, you know old Barney at church?”

“Sure, what about… oh, you… he is one of the sweetest people I know… so gracious and genuine.”

“Yeah, well, my team was pinned down by a Knight weapons squad firing on us from East Hill back in the Three Day War. Barney dodged their gunfire, made about a quarter-mile flanking movement, and took out every last one of them. When we got up there, he was … like nothing had happened.”

They enjoyed a splendid lunch of roast pork, beans, beets, and squash; Garner had put the vegetables up earlier in the fall. Carol and Therese contributed with a dozen rolls picked up at a bakery in town.

“Wise” like their daughter, the Goins did not ask about Therese’s past or family. They knew such a conversation needed to be initiated by Therese.

Around two in the afternoon, Rindy fell asleep in Carol’s lap as Therese read to her. Carol carried her up and put her to bed, leaving the door cracked in case she awoke startled.

Carol returned and sat by Therese. The Goins had a cozy den, and its big fireplace blanketed warmth upon the four. Carol yawned.

Her mother urged, “Carol, we’ve made up the cottage for y’all, and your daddy had Dave start a fire down there too. Why don’t you go down and take a nap? We’ll watch after Rindy and make sure she has something light for supper … after that big lunch.

Embarrassed, Therese’s blushing cheeks gave her away as always. She hoped they would think it was the heat from the fire.

Carol asked her parents, “Are you sure? I mean y’all keep her so much.”

Colonel Goins assured, “Sweetie, it’s fine. We love that little peanut. It’s just the way life is right now.“

“Has she asked about Harge at all?”

“Some, but she is handling it all very well. She’s processing all this loss just like everyone is, sweetie. Now, Y’all go on. We’ll see you tomorrow… I’m making pancakes for Sunday breakfast. There are some things in the cabin’s little kitchen that y’all can snack on … oh, and a bottle of my scuppernong wine.”

Carol glanced at her mother, and Garner gently directed, “Go on. Y’all be good to each other. You deserve it.”

Carol stood and took Therese’s hand, “I told you, Angel, they are special people. C’mon, let me show you the cutest little creek cabin you’ve ever seen.”

The freezing air contrasted with the toasty warm den. Carol started laughing and running. Therese, taken off guard, stumbled along for the first few steps but had no intention of releasing her love’s hand. She caught the pace and joined in the laughter as well.

They reached the cabin, and Carol paused, “Hey, let’s grab some more firewood… just in case. I’m not going to be more than two feet from you for the next sixteen hours.” Carol loaded skinny oak logs onto Therese’s arms then grabbed up a larger one for herself. Carol crooked it under one arm so that the other would be free to get the door.

Therese hesitated, “Carol, we didn’t get our bags.”

Carol just laughed, “You silly goose … we don’t need any bags. C’mon, sweet cheeks.”

Once inside the charming little a-frame, they dumped their firewood in its bin by the fieldstone fireplace. The crackling fire had the relatively small living space heated up nicely, but Carol added more wood to the fire.

Large skylights provided a marvelous light. A queen size oak bed rested with its head against the far wall. Above it nestled a tiny loft sleeping space accessible via a shallow, angled ladder. The little kitchen was to the right, directly across from the fireplace. Two ground windows bookended the fireplace and offered a romantic view of the gray/green creek.

Carol charmingly coaxed, “That fire has this place heated up, so let’s see if I can do the same for you.”

Standing in the center of a colorful hand-woven rug, they embraced and kissed beneath the apex of the single room.

Mutually, they pulled back. Carol spoke first, “I know.”

“Yeah.”

“We’ve always been so… rushed.”

“This is …”

“Too perfect.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Let’s start over.”

“Take it slow?”

Carol nodded then said, “Hey, you get the blind on the door. I’ll close these curtains by the fire.”

“Okay … hey, take off your coat, and I’ll hang ‘em on those hooks at the door.”

They returned to one another and stood at the foot of the bed. As if two schoolgirls had just met, they glanced about the room. Eventually, their eyes met. There it was, the yearning, the burning passion, and the love.

Therese stepped to Carol, gently unclasped Carol’s pearls, then walked them to the enameled dresser and found a spot for them to rest. She returned.

Carol lifted Therese’s pendant necklace carefully over Therese’s head and placed it by the pearls. She returned.

Therese ran her hands up under Carol’s sweater and gracefully slipped it off. She folded it and placed it on a chair just off the foot of the bed. Therese returned to receive the same luxuriant pull.

Therese unbuckled Carol’s narrow leather belt, unzipped her jeans, and worked them down slowly to her ankles. Carol stepped out of the pants, then Therese folded them to neatly join the sweaters. Carol deftly removed Therese’s jeans and added them to the chair.

Both were glad they each had at least one attractive set of lingerie rolled up in their civvies. Carol’s bra and panties were black; Therese’s were white. Therese slowly spun Carol to unclasp her bra, caught it as it tumbled free then hooked her fingers into Carol’s panties to slip them down and off.

Therese was dying with anticipation as Carol’s hands went between her breasts to unsnap her bra. Carol took her arms around her as she removed the bra and could not resist pulling Therese in for a slow heart-throbbing hug. Carol broke the embrace and turned Therese. Carol dropped kisses down Therese’s spine, and upon reaching her waist, hooked Therese’s panties, then continued the kisses as she pulled the elegant garment down, causing Therese’s glutes and hamstrings to quiver. Cast into the chair, the contrasting undergarments mingled in a dainty cluster.

Carol took Therese’s hand and led her to the bed. She pulled down the thick hand made quilt and cotton sheets for them to slip in and under the covers. They wrapped around each other like ivy. After a long kiss, they nuzzled into each other’s necks and fell fast asleep.

They popped awake less than a half-hour later. Energized and horny, they tore into one another: kissing, biting, nibbling, and fingering. Their juices ran as screams and moans rose in primordial chorus. They feasted on one another. They loved one another.

Both fires raged, the one on the stone hearth and the one in the bed. Panting and sweaty, the women kicked off the covers and lay side by side. Therese sat up and rolled to examine the cut on Carol’s thigh.

Carol growled, “I know, it’s so ugly.”

“Hush … it is not. I just wanted to make sure I didn’t bust it open during all that monkey business.”

Carol laughed uncontrollably, “Monkey business? Is that what we’re calling it?”

Therese gently clenched her teeth on Carol’s iliac crest and threateningly muttered, “Stop making fun, or I’ll bite you.”

Carol swooned, “Oh, darling, bite away.”

Therese added just enough pressure to bring an “Ouch!” from Carol.

Carol rolled to her hands and knees and pushed Therese flat on her back, commanding, “Just for that … lie still, sister!”

Therese complied in glowing anxiety.

Carol reached across her to the nightstand. A crystal vase of long and silky owl feathers adorned it. She pulled one free and pointed the quill threateningly at Therese. Carol hunched her back, and in a witchy voice hissed, “We’ll show you some ‘monkey business,’ my pretty.”

Therese clenched her fists and gritted her teeth.

Carol stayed in character, “We’ll start here.” She tapped at Therese’s ear then drew the tip behind it and down along her neck and shoulder.

Therese quaked.

Carol rose up like a harpy announcing, “Now these.” And with that, she tickled Therese’s erect nipples, one, and then the other, back and forth.

Therese resisted for endless seconds, then screamed and turned on her assailant, pinning her down in their love nest. Therese wrestled to relieve the beldam of her weapon.

Still, in witch mode, Carol protested, “No, no, don’t take my magic feather. Pleeease!”

Therese finally secured the deadly plume. She decided an attack in the nether regions would be advantageous.

A quick draw along the inside of Carol’s thigh forced her to quiver and cry, “Oh, hell, no!”

With the luxury of some free time, they had both shaved in preparation for this weekend adventure; Carol’s exposed, swollen clitoris now fell victim to Therese’s avian saber. A light sensation at first, Carol shrugged and smirked at her love.

Therese persevered, and with an impish visage, she employed a section of less flexible barbs. Carol quaked, and while biting her lip, she glared at her heavenly torturer. Therese grinned for a few more seconds, then relented and tossed the feather aside. She plunged her index and middle fingers into Carol and pressed them to narrow the distance to her thumb. She added her lips, tongue, and teeth to the mix and brought her Major Hottie to a boil. Carol reached a crashing ecstasy as the setting sun’s orange rays shot through the small kitchen windows located above its sink.

Carol grasped Therese’s forearms, looked her in the eyes, and gasped, “Thank you!”

As they cooled, Carol suggested, “Hey, I didn’t show you … this place has a little closet bathroom. Will you join me, milady?”

They laughed and kissed while bumping around in the little shower.

“This hot water is glorious.”

“It is, Carol, but I’m hungry.

After toweling dry, Therese was regretting not having their bags. She did not want to put on their street clothes again. Carol had slipped out of the bathroom first and now returned with two sets of flannel pajamas.

Therese giggled, “Where did you get those?”

I would have spends out here when I was a kid. Momma always kept a few of these in that hope chest in case somebody spilled something or forgot their own PJs.” Carol held them up and asked, “Well, there’s white with little blue thingies … or blue with white thingies. What’ll it be, Angel?”

Therese laughingly selected the predominantly blue ones.

Carol pulled the cork from her Daddy’s earthy wine and poured two fruit jars half-full. Therese worked on a spread of saltines, canned fruits, butter, cheese, salted nuts, and scones.

They stole the quilt from the bed and spread it before the fire. Carol had added more wood to the fire and punched it up. They ate and talked, shared stories, laughed, drank, chuckled, and shed a couple of tears.

At one point, while gazing into the embers, Therese wondered, “I bet those ‘spends’ were fun.”

“Oh, they were, Abby was always there … we’d laugh, and play games till all hours, then the— ... oh dear, you never had a spend the night party or even went to some other girl’s, did you?”

“No.”

Carol reached over and grasped her hand.

“But, you know what, Carol, this can be my spend.”

Carol was too moved to do anything but nod and smile. After a moment, she chose to shift the mood, “Damn, we ate all of that?”

“Well, we’ve been working hard, Major.”

Carol chuckled in agreement, then stood to take their tray to the kitchen.

“Here, Carol, let me help.”

“No, no, you stay.”

Therese complied and eased back down and resumed her fire gazing.

Carol made sure Therese wasn’t looking, then quietly went to her jacket to pluck something from its pocket. She returned to Therese’s side and slipped the item under her far thigh.

“Thank you for this weekend, Carol. It’s been beyond words. Your parents are so generous and loving, and Rindy… well, she’s a precious child.”

“I’m glad you feel that way, Therese, because this time with you … not just today but every stolen minute we’ve shared for the past two weeks have been … well, the most fulfilling of my life.”

Carol turned sitting cross-legged to face Therese, and Therese felt compelled to do the same.

Carol continued, “Hey, you know the day I traveled over to meet with Daddy and Rindy and tell her about Harge?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I had a meeting after that.”

“Really?”

“Yes, I wanted to wait to tell you about it … for the right time.”

“Oh?”

“Harry wanted to meet with me.”

“He and Catherine sure didn’t have much if any kind of a honeymoon, huh?”

“No, they couldn’t afford the time with all that’s on their plate, plus it’s just not ...”

“Of course.”

“Anyway, Harry asked me to come by his office on Court Street. We talked for over an hour, Therese.”

“Wow.”

“Yes, he realizes what a vital role the 2 has to play in the Reunification and all, but he also realizes, as I have, that the Slingshot teams as they currently stand will not be necessary for the future.”

“Oh … oh, me.”

“Yes, Angel, and, heck … as you and I have been working on and well know, the Knights are being disbanded and will be no more.”

Therese nodded.

“Harry thinks that we can start deactivating most of the teams … when he and Catherine think the time is right.”

“The 2?”

Carol nodded.

Therese averted her eyes to the fire.

“He said that eventually, they’d like just to have the 5 and the 1.”

“That sure would seem to leave the borders unprotected.”

“Frankly, Therese, the folks in the know from both sides of the river, don’t think there’s any real threat left out in the Old World. As a matter of fact, he wants to form a committee tasked with planning the exploration of the lands outside of the Spared Territory. He believes that opportunities and resources abound out there … as well as risks. Harry asked if I would serve on that committee.”

Therese leaned over and hugged Carol, “Carol, that is exciting news, and I’m so proud for you.”

“You’re worried about your future, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

“Do you think they could find a place for me on one of those remaining teams?”

“Well, that’s what I want to talk to you about. The Old World planning committee is quite a ways down the road and won’t be full time even when it does get off the ground. As soon as Harry thinks the Reunification is off its knees, he will have us shut down the 2. He wants to do whatever it takes to assist our personnel with their transitions back to civilian life or other military duties.”

“That’s good to know. I wonder what I could do?

“How about joining me in a wonderful new opportunity?”

“What?”

“Yes… and I’m so excited! Harry wants to appoint us to run Smith Academy.”

“Smith?”

“If we accept the appointments, I’ll be the director, and you will be the assistant director.”

Therese started crying. Carol was prepared; she pulled handkerchiefs from her pocket. Carol joined her love in tears and a hug.

After they were more composed, Carol grasped Therese’s hands, and when their glistening eyes met, she said, “I love you.”

Flashing her smile induced dimples, Therese declared, “I love you.”

Carol freed her right hand to retrieve the item hid under her leg.

Therese watched in wonderment.

Carol flipped open the lid of a tiny box to expose two diamond solitaire rings. They sparkled in the firelight.

“Therese, after my divorce, I put away my engagement and wedding rings … they’re in Daddy’s big safe. Rindy will have them someday to do with as she pleases. Perhaps they’ll remind her of her father.”

She paused and dabbed her eyes, took a couple of deep breaths, then resumed, “These two rings are very special to me. The oval was my momma’s mother’s engagement ring, and the Asscher was my daddy’s mother’s engagement ring. I think the oval will fit you perfectly, darling. Therese Belivet, I love you with all my heart and want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?

Without hesitation, Therese answered, “Yes. Yes, I will.”

Carol slipped the yellow gold ring with its oval-shaped diamond onto Therese’s finger, then Therese slid the white gold ring with the Asscher shaped diamond onto Carol’s finger. They embraced and kissed while slowly melting down onto the blanket.

Therese cuddled up with her ear on Carol’s chest. After a while, Therese could hear Carol’s heartbeat, the life-sound of her true love. Therese looked up to find Carol smiling at her.

Carol asked, “What are you thinking?

“Take me to bed, Major Hottie.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear readers of Slingshot 2, 
> 
> Twenty-two days ago, I started this Carol (2015) fanfic novella. It has been the most enjoyable writing project of my life. I'm sure many were aghast by an upstart alternate-universing our beloved Carol and Therese as elite warriors in a dystopian civil war. I express my deepest appreciation to those who tried it, were intrigued, and then stuck around for the finish. 
> 
> A special three took the time and energy to consistently and supportively post scores of comments. They are (in alphabetical order) Casper1066, Mica1962, and Win7Wil. I love you, gals. 
> 
> SLINGSHOT 2 and 8 FOREVER, 
> 
> Danny  
> 


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